Last night, I had dinner with a friend.
A long ago friend, a friend I met 50 years ago and haven’t seen since I can’t remember when. She’s pursuing her bucket list and I’m happy and honored to say I was on that list. We’re of an age, you see, and she’s had a year of change, having bid farewell to her wonderful partner in a very happy marriage of 38 years. But she’s plucky, my friend, and resilient and will always manage to look ahead through her Janis Joplin rose-colored glasses, while always cherishing the best of what’s gone before.
We went to college together and like all people who start an explanation with “we went to college together”, it’s safe to assume that we share references and memories that make no sense at all to others who weren’t there. It’s as if we were a part of a long lost documentary with a personalized soundtrack and sense of humor and, in our case, since it was an art school in the seventies, a very high-octane fashion code.
It was a night filled with non-stop conversation and cocktails, and many healthy laughs and thoughtful asides. In so many ways, my friend has not changed a bit since college – still mischief-in the making, still heart-on-her-sleeve open, still irreverent-as-it’s-possible-to-be, still one-of-a-kind-wonderful.
Happy trails to you, Cyd. Until we meet again.
We didn’t realize we were making memories, we just knew we were having fun.
– Winnie the Pooh