One of my best friends from college left during our sophomore year, then transferred to a different school. But between late night road trips and boy avoiding hijinks in just a short year and a half we solidified our friendship.
Over the past decade (or so), we’ve been in and out of touch. But it never matters how long it’s been since our last conversation, we always fall right back into easy, real conversation.
Every year before this one, I’d made the rounds visiting my friends in Texas before the festival. This year I knew I couldn’t take all the time off of work. And once I broke my ankle, I didn’t bother insisting anyone drive in to Austin to see me, since I was so unsure whether or not I could go. She was the only one I knew I had to see.
I headed straight to her house from the airport. We talked and talked. For hours. We talked about the little ones, her husband, work, my boy situation. Anything and everything.
She had her second little boy a few weeks ago. And I couldn’t wait to meet him. I’ve now met both of her little ones within their first two months. It may not make sense to anyone else, but I think kids remember you when you meet them when they’re very young. Her oldest always remembers me, even though he’s only seen me a few times since he was three weeks old.
Her parents came by, even after years, they still feel like home away from home to me. In fact it’s our moms’ fault that we’re friends. They met before we ever started college, and they insisted we look each other up when we got to campus. Thankfully we both listened to our moms on that one.
Sometimes things happen for a reason. I believe that. I believe in fate, kismet, whatever you want to call it. Particularly when it comes to my amazingly wonderful friends and how and why they’re all in my life. Now, if I could only believe in the same when it comes to other things.