I got an unexpected all tonight from Mike, my high school friend and college roommate, off and on.
I haven't heard from him for 20 years or so.
I won't go into what we talked about--children, of course, and lots of other stuff. I respect his and my privacy.
But he was my best friend in high school and roommate in college and his call came out of nowhere to me.
The past is not dead and gone.
It comes back.
His accent, from living in Knoxville, Tennessee, hasn't changed much. Mine, after nearly 40 years in New England, has been modified.
I still ache that we haven't been in touch for so long.
He is still my friend, though our lives have been so different.
I felt younger after talking with him.
Amazing.
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2019
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February
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- Another view
- The scariest thing
- Deep breath
- call tonight
- few dry eyes
- tomorrow's sermon
- Good night, my friends
- The Bananaman
- The view from above the Close
- Snow Moon
- Every day
- Sister wives
- feeling my age
- Bishop weary
- More pondering
- Declare it!
- Something is seriously out of whack
- Bless George Conway
- Sugar Ice
- Profession
- my girls
- double standard re: race
- Pondering
- words matter and mean something
- R.I.P.--Albert Finney and our youth....
- Reading report
- OK, I did watch it
- The State of the Union
- Mejol
- It's still Morgantown
- shaking my head
- life after funerals
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February
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About Me
- Under The Castor Oil Tree
- some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.
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