March 16, 2008
I wouldn't call this post "maudlin"
Originally published July 21, 2003
I wasn't certain how that trip to Charleston was going to play out. I mean, Ken and I were good friends a long time ago, but a lot of blood had passed under both our bridges since then. That all happened more than 20 years ago. I wasn't certain that it would be like old times. I wasn't certain that we would even be comfortable together anymore. I wasn't certain that we even spoke the same language.
But our meeting hit as if we had never missed a beat in 20 years. How often do you get a chance to do that? Lose a friend, find him over 20 years later and discover that you feel as if he was never lost. The years vanished as soon as I saw him. We both look a lot different now, but we picked up conversation right where we left off.
One thing really stalled the truck on Memory Lane. Ken asked about several people he remembered, and I said, "He's dead now. Car wreck. That one died about five years ago from cancer and this one died last year of a heart attack and that one comitted suicide..." and telling those stories depressed the shit out of me. I am 51 years old and I remember a lot of dead people in my life now.
But every now and then I run across one of the living that I haven't seen for a long time and it makes me feel really alive.
Going to Charleston was one of the best things I've done in a long time.
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