Feels Like Home...

 It was after midnight when I got home last night...too late to edit a 

pile of photographs from an evening spent with old school friends.

A small group of us gathered at a local restaurant to kick off a weekend commemorating the 40th year since we graduated from high school together. I saw many old friends and we talked about shared memories, but none like the memories I share with this one woman.

Cyd and I have been friends since we first laid eyes on each other in first grade. That was fifty two years ago. We both had long braids and when she walked into our classroom as a new student, we immediately hit it off. We became friends in that instant, and we've been fast friends ever since. 

If you're lucky enough to have one friend in your life like this, then you're lucky enough, indeed. The kind of friend who knows your own childhood as well as you do. The kind of friend who's shared the best and worst of times with you. The kind of friend who you can be away from for years, and never doubt that you're still BFFs...slipping back into conversation like a comfortable, well-loved, favorite sweater. You just know that you'll be friends until you die.

I'll be spending the day with her today, and then we're going to spend the night together at a bed & breakfast right in the middle of our old neighborhood. She lived on Olcott Street, and I on Division Street. The B & B is on the corner of Olcott and Division. We'll go to the reunion and when they kick us out, we'll sit up all night catching up on years of old stories.

I love this woman. When I'm with her, I'm a kid again. We're safe and steadfast. Being with her is easy. When I'm with her, it feels like home.