My Oldest Friend

I was twelve years old and in sixth grade. Twas a sunny blue skied school day. We were an hour into class when a new girl walked in. She had wavy dark hair, a round face with big beautiful eyes. More than her looks, what is vivid in my memory is a spark that ignited in the center of my heart as she strolled into class. It was a feeling of recognition. I knew we would be friends.

Let me say a bit about the sensation of that spark. It felt tiny, illuminated in white and golden light, made of the same breath that all life rises from - yet condensed, powerful and ignited as a small explosion, yet big enough so that I could not miss it's existence.

Perhaps the sparks meaning is: get to know this person. Or perhaps it is: an energetic connection between two people that is full of chemistry. For me, when I experience this spark, I feel that I have known this person through eternity, they already live in my heart, the rest will fall into place naturally.

I have experienced this with many of my good friends. When it happens now I am always curious as to what our future holds. The first time I remember this happening is with my oldest friend.

The first few years of our friendship Donna and I hung with different crowds. She was wild and rebellious to societies ways. I was quiet and full of day dreams, rebellious in a different way. Our so called associates did not 'get' our connection- but we did. When we visited our talks were deep and meaningful.

Donna moved an hour away, yet we stayed in touch, never letting much time pass between letters, phone conversations or visits. Today, 38 years later, we live even further away and yet we are still the dearest of friends.

Photo by: Ed Kennedy
This post is inspired by: Sunday Scribblings