Old Friends

I am driven to write a post about how much I value a friendship started long ago and continues on through the years.  I don’t know why-but I have always valued such friendships.  I don’t know if it’s because I used to listen to Simon and Garfunkel records when I would babysit back in the mid 80’s-when I was in my early teens and really had no idea what those songwriters meant to a entire generation.  I remember listening to a song called “old friends” and wrote those lyrics down in my school notebook, thinking of what they were singing about and wondering what it all meant.  

So, last week I was reunited with a friend that I have not seen in almost 19 years.  Back then, we were so young and “impromptu” always in the spirit of the moment.  We had silly fights, shared clothes, did each others nails, and all the other things that girls do in their 20’s.  

And now, to sit across from her reminiscing about what has happened in those years apart.  It’s not that we were not in contact-but you still can’t replace actually communicating in person.  I realized then-not that I didn’t know this-that even though the years have passed my old friend is still the same even after all that “life” has passed.  It is so interesting to me how you can pick up right where you left off, with the same responses, the same “music” plays…here are those lyrics below.  I still have that notebook of my written lyrics as I heard them so long ago.  

Remember your old friends. And cherish them.  I hope to have that kind of simple quietness when I am 70 sitting on a park bench…Image 


Old friends, old friends,
Sat on their parkbench like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass 
Falls on the round toes
of the high shoes of the old friends

Old friends, winter companions, the old men
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sun
The sounds of the city sifting through trees
Settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends

Can you imagine us years from today,
Sharing a parkbench quietly
How terribly strange to be seventy

Old friends, memory brushes the same years,
Silently sharing the same fears



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