The weeks blur into months. The months into years. I saw a high school friend today. We found each other a few months ago. We had lost touch all those years. We were close friends. We would confide in each other and share our life over the phone. Now I try to remember why we had ceased to talk. Life and responsibilities I suppose. There is something about a childhood friendship that remains strong. There is no polite conversation.
There are no walls. There are no barriers. There is a unspoken understanding. There is a trust. We spoke today of things that were unknown to us when we were young. We spoke about life and about death. We spoke about our children with a sense of pride. We spoke about what it means to lose your parents and watching them die.
We were once carefree. Now we have lived and so we know things that we thought that we knew then. We learned many lessons. The difference is that now we know that we are a work in progress. There is still so much to learn.
There is so much truth here. About the blurry divide between youth and age. Between life and death. Between ignorance and knowledge.ReplyDelete
We are all works in progress. Every one of this. To deny this is foolish. And there is always so much to learn. That is what gives life color, depth, texture.
I am so thrilled to be here reading your words!
Thank you Aidan . It means so much to me to have you here!ReplyDelete
This is a lovely reflection, Ayala. Those childhood friendships are irreplaceable. Having them makes the walk through life fuller, richer, more meaningful.ReplyDelete
Great meeting you in the blogosphere!
Thank you Belinda. I stumbled on your blog two weeks ago and I've been reading it since then.ReplyDelete
Great meeting you!!!