Kindred Spirits

Tonight I am dragging in after a wonderful visit with my old friend Erin, not old in terms of years of age, but old in regards to years of friendship.  I hope you know the kind of friend; no matter the distance of time or miles that separates, we seem to begin right where we left off.  Even if it was years before.

We went to supper and ironically ordered same entrée.  As she was ordering, I was thinking, “That is exactly what I want too.”  Afterwards we went to her little house and talked for hours.  Literally for hours.  We laughed and at times even teared up a bit.  We talked about things of old and things of new.  We talked about love and hate.  About life, aging parents, death, and tragedy.  We shared our hopes, our dreams, our hurts,  our mistakes, and regrets.  It was a breath of fresh air to me.

On Monday, a friend whom I have never done anything with, never shared a coke, or gone on a ride came to visit me.  He is mostly an online friend, but true to the core.  It’s the same situation.   We realized we’d been sitting on the same couch cushion for hours just talking away.  It’s as if someone just unzips your skin and reveals your soul, and there is a glimmer, a flicker of recognition in the other. 

My husband says it’s not like me to talk so long, and I have to say there are just some people who I can chat ’em up with. 

Although I can count the number of my friends on one hand, they are true blue.  And no matter the time or distance that separate, we always remain.

So tonight, I lay my exhausted head down and count my blessings, my friends.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Kindred Spirits

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s