Friendship

We had a boy over yesterday to play with The Middle One. These two went to preschool together two years ago and haven’t seen much of eachother since. Yet, as soon as they’re together it’s like no time has passed.

I have a best friend that I met in preschool. We were thick as thieves when we were four and then didn’t lay eyes on eachother again until ninth grade where we picked up as if no time had passed. She’s my first born’s Godmother and one of the people I think of every day.

Perhaps I’m putting too much weight on this poor little boy, but I can’t help but think that his friendship to my Middle One is just as important as the preschool one I have in my life.

I met her at age four, when my dad was dying. He met this boy at age four, when we’d yanked him from his home and school and a life where dad worked in the basement to a new house in a new town with a new school where we sent his dad off on a train for thirteen hours every day. They bonded quickly and tightly. She and I did the same. Her mom took me in when my mom needed support and never asked for anything in return. This boy’s mom took us all in when we needed support and never asked for anything in return. Her house was a safe place in a strange town, for all of us. There are parallels for sure.

The Boy and I? We were rescued by these people in our own way.

The boys are only seven so who knows if they’ll even stay friends passed this summer much less into high school and beyond. But watching them together, the ease with which they fall right back into things, the joy that is so obvious on both of their faces when  they see eachother, I can’t help but recognize that kind of friendship. I see in them the same security and love that I have had with Her  since I was four.

I wish that for both of them. Because it is one of life’s greatest gifts.