I sent this photo above to an old friend knowing it would matter and be understood with very few words in the message. St. Mary’s Basilica, Phoenix. Very peaceful here in the midst of the shadows.
With planes to catch, something to get to… each friend and I squeezed in the get together, perhaps as a gift to each other. Too close on the map not to try. Too many memories not to try. A recognition of each friend’s place in my life — a marker of a time once upon a time. Never a silent moment, a tapestry of the years spent together growing up, navigating, dreaming.
I have had a few homes, as we all really do. The home that was mine when I knew each friend came vividly back through our stories, laughter, even songs. The part so striking was the ability to just jump right in and have a conversation as if we just saw one another last month. And then another inevitable farewell. See you when I see you… one friend said. I thought it to be the most hopeful of phrases. A promise that there’d indeed be a next time. Departing from each meeting I realized that these friends will be a part of me always. A part of what I once knew as a home in that place, that city, that time. A trusted and old friendship brings us back home. Home to a time and to a place on our shared journeys, a thread connecting us always.