Rich

I caught up with a friend I’ve not seen or heard from in twenty years. We met at the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah in 1987 and struck up a friendship almost immediately. He taught me that a tie should drop just below the beltline if tied properly. He also accused me of calling ticky-tack fouls in basketball which I deny to this day. I think he was jealous I received more mail.

We spoke for 90 minutes about our jobs, family and friends. Twenty years disappeared, and I felt like I was back at the MTC shooting the breeze with him over handfuls of Cap’N Crunch Berries.

I also spoke with my father on the phone this weekend. He told me about his new iPad, and I gave him some tips on getting it setup with Gmail along with a handful of my favorite apps. Within five minutes we’d caught up, said goodbyes and promised to chat that night on Messenger.

Then tonight, two friends stopped by to help me install a new starter in the Maxima. One helped me remove the old starter, and another helped me install the new one. Both worked in the rain.

This is just the beginning. I could mention the friend who shares music, Diet Cokes and books with me or the friend who took care of the outstanding balance on a dental bill when he heard I’d lost my job. And I can’t forget the one who drops off BBQ and cinnamon rolls on Sunday nights just after the kids head to bed so I don’t have to share.

I realize the times of my life where I’ve been happiest are when I’ve had close friendships, not just a lot of acquaintances. It takes work, and it’s not something I’ve done well for stretches at a time.

But about a year ago I decided to focus on the few close friends I had instead of worry about about those who are happy with how things are. I started with my father, and have slowly branched out from there.

My life today is rich. Rich with friends.