This past June, Kristiana and I traveled up to Williamstown, Massachusetts, for my niece's graduation from my alma mater, Williams College. (Go, Ephs!)
On the day before the graduation, we sat down with a couple that I met when I was a freshman back in the fall of 1983. (I'll give you a second to do the math... tic-toc-tic... Never mind, here it is: I will turn 46 in 15 days (there is still time to shop and ship, folks!), and we go back for our 25th year reunion this coming June..)
Anyway, there on the table on their back deck, my friend had constructed a miniature version of Stonehenge - at least that's what I called it. On a glass table. Stones suspended, delicately balanced. All I kept thinking was: "Don't bump the table, Gail. Don't bump the table." Dale assured me that the stones had been there for a very long time and also that the glass could handle the fall.
Oh me, of little faith.
It was great to see Dale and Cindy again. To talk. Tell stories. Well up with tears. Double over with giggles. They are good friends. We share a rich, colorful, and rocky history. I am grateful that we are still friends.
Dale was right in a way he didn't know as he spoke: that a delicate balance has been maintained around and above the table of our friendship for a long time. And the glass, the ground beneath us, can handle the fall. It already has.