This morning I woke up early while the rest of a house full of adult kids slept off the big meal and wine from last night’s feast. We arrived yesterday to babysit the Grand-dog; that substitute for the real thing that many of us accept when no Grand-babies are part of the plan. They leave this morning to go to a couple of concerts and the beach and to spend precious time together.
These are hip, mobile, urban thirty and forty somethings who know how to live their friendships fully. They have walked a path together for years and kept firm the bonds of friendship. As they age, that walk will become a hike. It will be harder. They don’t know that quite yet. Keeping friendships strong and close will become more arduous with hills to climb and valleys to descend into. It will call them to be committed and to work hard to both give and receive friendship. They will need to hike in each other boots and be there in person when encouragement is needed.
This morning, my friend Penny lies in the hospital recovering from bypass surgery. My friend Karen lies in rehab recovering from a double knee replacement. This morning I walk for you both. I walk up and down a steep Decatur, Ga hill, thankful that we are friends of so many years and rejoicing that we will hike again together through this short life when you are well again.
For us all, the walk one day becomes a hike.