I broke my foot once. It was over five years ago now. Most of the time, I don’t notice. I forget. It’s like it never happened. But sometimes, it aches. Bone-deep, naturally. It feels as though it is still broken on really bad days. Or, maybe more like newly healed. Tender. A little itch I can’t quite reach. A bruise I cover to protect, or poke at while wondering at the discomfort.
How often are old friendships the same. The seasons change, friendships fade. My mind is so busy with my everyday Now, I forget those who were, often, so very important to me I couldn’t then imagine my life without them. Yet here we are. Like the pang of a long-healed break, it sometimes only aches, sometimes jars with sudden intensity. And I remember.
I remember you and I remember us.
Your laughter, that wonderful bark of sudden delight, or the infectious giggle, which scattered across my days with you.
An inside joke, taking me right back to the moment it was made. That I can never explain to anyone, because it really isn’t that funny. Except to us.
The song that always reminds me of hot July days with no air-conditioning. And you, with your feathered hair, sly smile, and swoon-inducing wink.
The way you listened and held me while I cried over some long-forgotten disappointment. And the way I did the same for you.
So many friendships have gone to the wayside, yet they are treasures stored up in my heart. Perhaps that season of our life is done; you and I have drifted apart, through no fault of our own, by simple circumstance; I will never forget you. You, my friend, are in my bones, and have made me who I am.