Old friends

Today, a meeting was held between some youth buddies, old friends... and it became what we expected it would be. Not a meeting, more like a gathering. At lunch time, graced by the warm winter sunlight.

Purely magic... as a new generation reveals itself (there's quite a few of offspring already), and although we're not the same, although we know little about our dear friends' husbands, wives, boyfriends and girlfriends, even though we've grown apart (in some cases, we did grow apart), in moments like this, nothing counts... we're as one. The husbands, wives, boyfriends and girlfriends feel somewhat dislocated, but not unhappy...

And fortunately, we're not that old.
Meaning, this will happen again.

Yet, some were absent.
Some were missed.

So, before we get too old for words or simply too old to be truly happy about these meetings, let me quote some other old friends...

"Old friends, old friends,
Sat on their parkbench like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the round toes
of the high shoes of the old friends

Old friends, winter companions, the old men
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sunset
The sounds of the city sifting through trees
Settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends

Can you imagine us years from today,
Sharing a parkbench quietly
How terribly strange to be seventy

Old friends, memory brushes the same years,
Silently sharing the same fears"

          - Simon & Garfunkel, in "Old Friends"