Lost and Found

I'm in Arizona. I'm seeing an old friend tonight, a friend that I once thought was lost.

I'm fascinated by life and the way it ebbs and flows like a river; how one year a person can be in your life and the next, they're gone and then--somewhere downstream--they return again after many years have passed, and with them they bring light and hope and peace.

This person is someone I looked up to in high school. She was a quirky writer, a story teller, a fellow dreamer. At some point in college I lost her. No need for me to go into details; it's her story to tell. But my point is: I'm grateful that she's okay and that she's been found.

I speak of our friendship as though it's something that I could have posted a flier about; nailed it to trees in random neighborhoods, as though she were a lost cat, a stray dog. I speak of it like she's something I could have donated to a goodwill store, or packed away in an old dusty box, like a yearbook or childhood artwork. But it's not that easy, not tangible.

We've got six years to catch up on. I don't even live in this state anymore!