We also got to spend an afternoon with long-time friends, Dave and Glenda. As a couple, there is no one we have known longer and we love them dearly. We attended their 25th wedding anniversary party and their 50th, and that is very special. When we see them, all too seldom these days, I always think that Tom is more his old self, which is wonderful to watch. Dave still cracks him up as he always has and they talk about the 'good old days' as though they were both going back to work on Monday! Because they have not spent a lot of time with Tom since his Alzheimer's was diagnosed, they remember him almost as he was before, and that is a lovely thing. No matter what is going on in our lives, they have been friends we shared with, laughed and cried with and always look forward to seeing again as soon as possible. Trips we took with them are some of our most precious memories. If you are lucky enough to have friends like that, you are blessed indeed.
When you sing "Auld Lang Syne" tomorrow night (and wonder what the heck that means anyway) I hope you sing it with good friends and that you look forward to the newness of discovery, learning and growing in the coming year. Health and happiness, my friends.
Here's a poem from "Dance on a Dirt Road."
Like the slithery transition betweensleep and waking, a year begins to slip
into history, taking with it those unpredictable
moments when everything was possible.
Endings bring sadness, finality, no morechances to shape events, pull from
the distractions in my head the jagged
start-stop of best intentions.
Leaves fall from my tree of hope,
gather on the ground dampness, slowly
decaying into new life, but forever lost
to my mania for fixing what went wrong
with this year’s plan – going for the dreams
and passions that I always knew would not
survive loneliness or bring me comfort. I see them
dangling at my window, and once again
I believe in beginnings.