The Treasure of a Friend 

           Part 4

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   More time passed.

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    Vic retired. The condo was sold. There was a transition to a tidy, one-bedroom apartment.

    Vic grew elderly, and I became middle-aged—a few years older, in fact, than Vic was when we first met. 

    We could reminisce, now, about memories long past …

 

    “Hey Vic, remember …

 

     … that Christmas break in college, when it was below zero and the heater in your car wasn’t working, and we all but froze driving to work in the morning?”

 

    … driving to Florida and stopping for gas, and I suggested we look under the hood, and you asked why, and I said I read somewhere that during a long trip it’s good to check the engine in case anything is loose—so you popped the hood and lifted it up, and called out: “ANYTHING LOOSE IN THERE?”

 

    … camping near the Everglades, and the raccoons were so pesky that we didn’t dare walk away from the picnic table or they’d be all over our food—and when they just wouldn’t leave us alone, you finally got so aggravated that you started throwing things at them?”

 

    … in Hawaii on the Big Island, when Robin was only two, and we wanted to see the Green Sand Beach that we had heard about, and we found it on the map and it was miles from the roadway—so after parking the car the three of us starting hiking to it, while Marcy stayed behind with Lianne—and then Robin got tired, so the two of you started back, and then you carried him and he fell asleep—and when Marcy saw you returning with Robin limp in your arms, she thought something terrible had happened to us and that Robin was dead?”

  

    Isn’t it nice to reminisce?

    Doesn’t it bring a smile, recalling special moments shared? Doesn’t it warm the heart?

    Aren’t the simplest times often those we remember most fondly?

    And isn’t it nice to have that next phone call to look forward to? The next visit to anticipate? That next time to be together?

    And wouldn’t it be good, if it could always be so?

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          Conclusion.

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