Yesterday I had a bunch of fire-and-forget tasks to accomplish at my office associated with migrating data to a new file server. Just as I was setting up one of these tasks, Jamie called, and I suggested we grab bite of lunch.
Jamie is one of those friends with whom I can start right where I left off our last conversation, or start a new one about pretty much anything. Jamie and I have been genuinely close friends since 1999, when we met at the late Ann Kelley’s house on 17th Street, and Jamie mentioned that fact as we ate yesterday. “What happened to the years? Why do they seem to go by so fast?”
“We got married,” I suggested, me to Abby in 2004 and Jamie to Ian in 2006.
Gone were all the things that seem to make life stand still: the desperate nights wondering if we would be alone forever, why our last partner bailed on us, how long would it be, if ever, until we found someone, and would that someone break our hearts all over again.
I can’t say enough good things about marriage, with the criticals caveat that it’s not easy, and that it’s hard to find the right person to marry. Jamie and I found the right partners after years of searching.
Jamie also talked about the way she and I were able, back then, to commiserate without judgement. We were just there for each other, day or night. I like to think that will always be true.