Sunday, April 22, 2018

Old School Friends

I remember reading a very boring book once in college that tried to make the case that life was like drifting down a river. It was a clumsy metaphor, but the author stuck to it, suggesting that whenever the current was lazy and meandering, that was akin to dull, uneventful years that slip by with little notice, but whenever rapids came along, they represented the years of upheaval and chaos, etc..It was the sort of book that I hated having to read, the sort that were presented to me as deep and profound, but I found dull and pretentious. But, oddly enough, this weekend, although I can’t for the life of me remember the name of the book or it’s author, the metaphor has come to mind.

This weekend has been about old friends. We attended a wedding in Charlotte of a young woman who we were first introduced to when she was a teenager. Her parents attended our church. I was a volunteer with the youth ministry at the church. As such, I got to know a whole host of teenagers over about a ten year run. I was always much closer to the kids than I was to any of their parents, which is a hazard of youth work, I suppose. Over my time in youth work, I probably got to know four or five hundred kids. Although I wasn’t crazy about all of them, I can honestly say that I loved most of them despite, and sometimes because of, their difficulties. No matter what knuckleheaded thing they would do, I couldn’t help myself, I loved them anyway. The reason for this was primarily because when I was a teenager, I was a hot mess...the quintessential knucklehead, so...who was I to judge?

Anyway, every once in a while a kid would come along who would grab a little piece of my heart. The young woman who got married this weekend was one such kid. She was piece of work, this one...smart, driven, opinionated, with a high octane motor, oozing with personality. But, she also had that rarest of qualities in the teenager species...a tender heart.  Most teenagers are all arms, legs and raging hormones, so obsessed with themselves, and their perceived status. But, this spitfire had a heart the size of Texas. There was this one sixth grader, a newly minted middle schooler, who was eligible for the youth department, but terrified by all the big kids, and full of anxiety. But, this sharp, cool, and very with-it big kid would call her and invite her to come to things, even offering to save her a seat right in the middle of the cool kids’ row. That sixth grader was my daughter. And that cool kid with the big heart walked an aisle with a dashing young man on her arm last night.

I don’t see much of her anymore. Life has taken her to Charlotte. We don’t run in the same circles anymore. My time with her was during a season of rapids several bends down the river. But, at the wedding I saw others from those years. I saw a handsome young man with his beautiful wife. He used to be one of my boys. Back then he was a bit of a rakish rogue, smart, quick on his feet, and a bit of a charmer. But, I always knew he would do well for himself, as long as he found the right wife. He did, and he has. I listened to him tell me about his life, as a strange feeling of well being swept over me.

There was another boy from the old days there, he too all grown up and accomplished. Sharp, articulate, married to a beautiful doctor, carrying around an adorable eight month old boy. This young man has landed in the Midwest, as an architect. I watched them playing with their beautiful little boy, and I started to feel a bit better about the world. 

I ran into several couples from the old days at the wedding. All have stories to tell. Some have been blessed beyond measure, others have endured their share of darkness. We have all drifted apart, having been separated by the currents over the years. But, coming together to celebrate a wedding helps us to remember just how fortunate we all were to have known each other.

On the way home today, we stopped in to have lunch with some dear friends who recently retired and moved away from Richmond. These were friends who have been on the same river passage with us for nearly 30 years. These kind of ties cannot be broken by mere distance. So we saw their new house, shared a meal, and talked about upcoming big doings...another wedding and the arrival of their first grandchild. More twisting turns, swirling eddys to navigate, but navigate them we will.

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