During the pandemic, Ruth and I, like most, hunkered down and watched more TV than usual. We limited our viewing, as best we could, to a couple hours each evening. We like different things, so finding a happy medium was sometimes a challenge. I gave up most shoot-em-up, action flicks, and she didn’t insist I watch every home make-over show ever produced. For several weeks, we ended each evening with an episode or two of “Friends”. Over the course of several months we watched all ten seasons and two-hundred thirty-six episodes. While my friendships haven’t followed the course of the six TV stars, I’m blessed with the ones I have.
I spent a few days with my college friend, Gary, AKA The Fox, last week. We played a few rounds of golf at Gaylord’s Treetops Resort where he and his wife, Sue, own a condo.
Gary and I met our first year at Western. He and his high school friend, Tim, shared Eldridge Hall’s room 604. My roommate, Don, and l lived in 605. Don was from Wisconsin, and over time earned the nickname, Fuzzy. The four of us were fish out of water. We, like most of the residents of the sixth floor, were freshman in Western’s newest dorm. Little did I know that chance encounter, put in play because of a random room assignment, would follow me the rest of my days.
Tim and Don’s love of the outdoors struck a cord and the two of them hung out together. Gary and I had similar interests, so we headed to the Friday night mixers in the student union. We paid our fifty cent entrance fee and scouted out potential dance partners. If we got lucky, we’d dance a half dozen times throughout the evening. Most of the time we just talked about where we’d been and where we hoped to go.
Gary and I shared a cup of coffee three mornings this week, spent three rounds in a golf cart together, and shared stories of our past with the other members of our foursome over dinner each night. The one on one talk was about family. We updated one another about our wives, our children, and our grandchildren. Group talk was about how we met and the adventures we’ve shared.
I shared the story of our first meeting and Gary’s high school scrapbook. He had me review it while he continued to study. He was an outstanding football player at Divine Child, courted by several colleges. What I didn’t know was his mom assembled the book for him. She must have been very proud. While Gary doesn’t recall that first encounter in exactly the same way, it’s my blog, so it’s my story.
Life long friends are the best. You grow up together, share life lessons, and reconnect seamlessly. You can go for months, even years, without speaking and pick up right where you left off. You don’t judge, you just share.
Gary and I met as boys, grew together into men, married, had children, helped them grow to adulthood, and have families of their own. We took different paths with similar goals. We celebrate our successes and share our shortcomings. That’s what good friends do.
We’re lucky to have each other and several other friends who’ve lived similar lives. We’re not famous, but our stories are not much different than the make-believe stories I saw on “Friends”.