I met a friend for dinner last week. He’s not someone I knew from childhood or went to school with. I don’t know much about his family, and I don’t believe I’ve met his parents.
We don’t chat on the phone or computer nor is he active on Facebook or Twitter.
Other than meeting up three or four times a year for dinner, we don’t see or talk much. If the Cowboys are making a late charge I’ll send him to text to see if he has any faith left in Tony Romo.
We always meet at the same Pho soup joint at Southcenter. I told Kim I’d be gone “about an hour”. But three and a half hours passed before either of us look at our phones. He picked up dinner. I believe I paid the last time we met, but I can’t remember because nobody keeps track.
It’s not easy to explain why I connect with some people and not others. I wouldn’t say a have many close friends. I have a group of good friends, but they come and go. Casual friends more away and are replaced by those I meet at work or church.
This week I stood in the cold next to my car and talked about everything and nothing with one of my close friends. Temperatures were near freezing, and my fingers and toes were numb. But none of that mattered. The nearly two hours we talked felt like twenty minutes.
No matter my circumstances I feel rich when close friends like these two are in my life. Their friendship and that connection mean far more than anything money can buy.