Best Friends

The apartment is still and quiet except for the explosion of color assaulting my senses. Vibrant reds and purples leap from pictures covering each square inch of pumpkin wall. In this small loft, the sound of chaos pulsates off the kitchen counter long covered with remnants of forgotten meals. Clothes litter the floor and ceramic roosters stare down at the scene from green apple perches and stand as sentinels against any who dare attempt to organize the disarray.

Her personality fills any leftover space and permeates her home with kindness and generosity. His personality, even during this time of recovery, remains thoughtful and caring. The sound of their breathing rises and falls meeting each new challenge and mixes in the air to form best friends.

If fair weather friends exist for some, then for me, these are the friends of typhoons, hurricanes and yet unnamed disasters. We have weathered job trials, divorce and trauma. At times we have suffered indignities, loss and each other. Both have been a constant in my life when I could not see the sun setting at night – when I could only feel the descending darkness. Their laughter has been steady when I fell out of kayaks and slipped down mountain trails.

In this place, where the three of us reunite for a short weekend, the time feels long and expands back into the decades. Among the bedlam, there is room for shared memories and love. There is room for hopeful futures and dreams. There is room for more baggage than can fit in a suitcase and more security than can be seen. Miles separate us but the distance between friends is measured in heartbeats and bound by the notion that the human spirit may journey alone but finds completeness with others.