I’d like to think that everyone has their “someone”. The friend who you don’t have to see often, to be friends. Conversations picked up like they ended yesterday, though in reality they ended months, or even years, ago. A friendship that doesn’t gather dust, no matter how long it is “shelved” by the freight train of life.
In my 25 short years on the third rock from the sun, I’ve tangled up a few of these “besties” in my time line. When I think of their faces, my heart brims with love - knowing that no stretch of time or length of continents or breadth of seas will ever change how much I love them or, hopefully, how much they love me in return.
I wonder in awe at friendships that have spanned nearly two decades, when I’m not even (that) close to being three decades old.
Tomorrow one of these friends becomes a stow away on my train, even if it is just for a couple of days, before she jumps off again to write her masters and wrestle with the law of human rights, as she works toward making a real difference in our world. She is one who will fight for the silenced voices to be made loud, for the lowly and cast aside to raised up, for all men, women and children to be treated with dignity and equality - she’ll look hot doing it - and I believe she will win. It’s the only reason we’ll let her go.
And we will pray, earnestly, that she is returned to us, though we know that she will always go where she can make the difference for many, even if it means that the living in each others’ lives is limited to a few, short journeys.
Tomorrow is going to be a great day. And thats enough for me.
