How can one know when beginning to interact with a new friend whether the relationship will stand the test of time? Friends met in elementary school still keep in touch while best friends from high school cannot be located, or once found, briefly meet and disappear again. Sometimes the connection is instant and thoughts seem to merge and erupt from our mouths simultaniously. One friend from college has filtered in and out of my life never being far from my thoughts. Our lives have strangely paralled and when we talk, the years between seem to melt away or merge. Living on the same dormitory floor in college, we met our freshman year. Many of my "closest" friends from that era have only spurred mild interest as our lives have progressed to full adulthood. Gail has always lifted my spirits with a phone call no matter which of us intiated the conversation. During our mutual exile to the south, we often would spend an hour or more in phone conversation. In those days, the phone bill reflected a substantial charge for such indulgence. Still the cost was much less than the hour and a half to drive the distance for face time. When she moved with her family back to our hometown, we briefly lost touch. Our moves happened through the years and our children grew to adolescence. She contacted Ol' Abner's employer in an effort to find us without success. On a whim, I picked up a phone book from our old town and found her listed. I called and left a message on the answering machine for her as well as another mutual friend. The result was an hour long phone call with both of them via Gail's mobile phone (yes, we still called them "mobile phones" then). Again we continued to keep in touch intermittently by telephone. Our children were growing up and we were attempting to wind down careers. At some point, Ol' Abner was helping plan a company function with the manager in the old hometown. Customers and family were being invited to the event at the amphitheatre in the canyon. I went along with Ol' Abner and just before the production began, in came the guests scheduled to occupy the two seats next to us. Such a thrill to see my dear friend! As we chattered, a lady behind us grumped that it was so rude to talk as the show began. Oh yes, it had been fourteen years since our last visit and already we were in trouble. It was at that meeting that an epiphany occurred. Gail must stretch to reach a height of 4'11" and I stand at a full six feet. Standing in the patio at intermission, I looked down and thought " I didn't remember that she was so short" just as she commented that she didn't remember that I was so tall. It was twenty years into our friendship, and our thoughts still erupted in sync.

Westward Ho

It was time to take Pappy home to his little lake in West Texas. Sometimes we just drive him home and other times we continue on with a short visit after he is comfortably deposited in his own space. I have suffered from a hankerin' to visit Santa Fe for several years and finally stomped my foot and demanded that Ol' Abner come along with me. It took him several weeks to warm to the idea...until I was able to find a favorite outlaw there. A former family member, removed by divorce but kept close in our hearts, turned up with a website when searching on a social network. I promptly fired off an e-mail hoping to hear back from her before we left home. It was less than a day until her reply appeared.

Some connections never end and my Mammy loved this one. The outlaw, formerly cuz-in-law, brought such joy to my mother during her time in our family. When the divorce was final, our attachment didn't end. Over ten years have passed since she accompanied us to the "Little Cabrito" canyon in New Mexico to scatter my mother's ashes. We corresponded by e-mail a time or two afterward and I lost track when a Christmas card I sent was returned and we moved, acquiring a new e-mail address.

Her reply to my missive included an invitation to not only see them while we were in Santa Fe but to stay at their home. We accepted and arrived to open arms that immediately were familiar. So many changes in the last ten years had little impact on the connection to this vibrant exciting woman. Now we are the grandmothers and our children live in many different cities. Our husbands have all gray hairs on their heads. We choose to mask our gray a bit. A late night visit after the fellows adjourned to their beds, brought laughter and a tear or two. She lost her mother just months ago and the knowledge that my mother was available to welcome her into heaven gave great comfort. Her father suffers from Alzheimers and she was saddened to hear that Pappy is no longer mentally sharp. The more things change...the more they stay the same. That tune floats in my mind with a certain satisfaction that things that matter really never change.

On our way to Santa Fe, we hopscotched up North a bit to have a meal with my sis and her husband, on to spend a night and visit with an uncle and aunt. The following morning we continued on to stop for a call on another uncle and aunt before following the highway south into Santa Fe. As we traveled home, a stop in the city where I grew up, allowed us to spend a night with good friends since college days. I think I'll write about that tomorrow. Right now I just want to indulge in the delightful memories of our time in Santa Fe and thoughts of my mother. Amazing...gone from home over a week and not one night in a hotel, my mother would be proud!

Marking the Years

We're planning a celebration this weekend in Dogpatch. My Pappy will begin his 91st year tomorrow and Ol' Abner will celebrate his 66th birthday on Saturday. At 91, gifts are more of a headache than a joy for Pappy...unless he can eat it or drink it. I will bake him a german chocolate cake and probably buy him a bottle of his favorite whisky. On Saturday, we will have an early afternoon dinner complete will all of his choice foods and Ol' Abner's favorites. Brother and Sis In Law will be here, and a couple of good friends will join us for the indulgence. Pappy's health is very good considering his years. Balance is not good, but he refuses to use a cane. He says he learned to fall when he was young and a cane would just get in his way. A stumble results in a tucking of his arms, hunching his shoulders and just rolling into a ball. So far, nothing has broken except a pair of glasses several years ago. This year's celebration will be rather low key compared to the last one when the multitudes came to honor Pappy's 90th and Ol' Abner's day was barely marked. Ninety will trump sixty-five every time.

Pappy laments that his years are going by way too fast now. We've noticed that his collection of stories has become limited to only a few. He is very proud of his age and reminds us that no one thought he would ever make it to 21 years of age, let along 91 and giggles when he tells us. The implication is that he participated in many daredevil escapades, but somehow those tales have never been told. He says memory loss is not really so bad. We may travel the same roads daily, but it's brand new territory with each passing for him. We may be bored by the same old faces, but he meets new friends every day. I read somewhere that a happy outlook can extend one's life, and Pappy is a testiment to that theory.