The Gift of Old Friends

This week some old friends of mine came into town.  Old friends are a blessing.  I think I’ve mentioned that before.



Even old friends that tell your children that you met your husband in prison.  Scoundrels.  Obviously, this is not true.  The kids sure thought it was funny though.  Sheesh.

We need people who know our history.  People we share inside jokes with.  People who have seen us at our best and our worst. 

The old friends who see us change through the years and stick around, well, those are the best kind of old friends. 

We spent a lot of time remembering the old days.  And had fun creating some new memories and inside jokes.

Remember how I’m trying to stop running from the day, from fear?  I got to watch one of my friends do just that.  She held back the temptation to cry and scream while I drove them up to Lookout Mountain.  She’s a touch afraid of heights.

Look at what fear would have kept her from seeing.  Amazing.  I told my friends that the view doesn’t get old.  It really doesn’t.

While I drove them back to their hotel last night, the kids were asleep in the car.  Worn out from a day of camp and an afternoon/evening of fictional prison stories. 

Under the glow of the passing streetlights, these lovely ladies gave me a fantastic birthday present.  They complimented my kids. 

The last time I saw these ladies was the night before I moved to Colorado.  There were no kids yet.  For them to see me after so many years, meet my crazy children and say, “You did good, momma!” made my heart burst.

This is why everyone needs old friends.