A Friend Indeed

I have an old friend who has remarked on several occasions about how influential our time together in high school was.  He sees that brief period as significant well beyond the few short years it represented.  And for this particular friend, they were fewer still since he only joined our merry little group (the "buds") our junior year.  We did everything together, from week long backpacking trips to movie nights to several activities that would get a kid a permanent record today.  Now it has been 27 years since we graduated. Twenty seven - just typing that seems incredible to me.  It feels like both five minutes ago and a whole other lifetime.  My friend has made this remark on several occasions, but this last time seemed to really reach me on some new level.

I realize how fortunate I am to have had those friends.  And how fortunate I am that they still are my friends, despite my best efforts to be unworthy of their friendship.  Several weeks ago I made a pilgrimage to Zion to attend that wedding of one of these friend's son.  I had hoped to have more time to do more things and see more people, but I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to see some of these old friends again.  We went to a movie one night and out to dinner another.  It's funny how they don't seem to have changed a bit to me.

Much has happened in the years that have come and gone, and I represent the least successful in life.  I don't mean from a material standpoint - I'm probably above the mean in that regard - but more in the "being a good person" way.  Plus these are conservative, devout LDS folks and I am open and out to them.  Yet, they have remained my friends, and that has made a difference.  Perhaps THE difference during dark times when I pondered whether it was time to give up.

 I still struggle a bit to understand my feelings. Or perhaps the depth of my feelings.  Do I feel such strong affection for them because I am gay, or is it my strong feelings of affection that make me gay?  I have concluded that (1) it is unlikely that I will ever know, and (2) it doesn't matter.  Feelings are complicated and can't be stuffed into conveniently-labeled boxes no matter how much my obsessive personality longs for that.  What I do know is that I'm thankful that they are my friends.  

After dinner on our last night together, I drove home the old friend who had remarked on the influence of our high school years.  We sat and talked in the car for a few minutes after I pulled into his driveway.  At the end of the conversation, he looked at me and expressed how grateful he was for having me in his life, finishing by telling me he loved me.  I have no recollection of him ever saying that before.  What an amazing thing a friend can be, and what a difference a friend can make.  Even the difference between life and death.  I am a lucky man indeed. 

And another thing ... Never try knocking a spider off your ceiling directly over your bed.  At least if you plan to getting any sleep that night.