So, when I was little, there was this guy I used to hang around with. He was like an older brother to me. In fact, 8 years my senior, he might as well have been.
His mom and my mom were best friends. And my father and his father were best friends (despite both not being Witnesses). And we were close. Looking back now, there's no reason why he should have enjoyed my company with such an age difference between us- I'm sure I was a burden- but he at least faked it well.
Well, he graduated high school. And in high school, he had taken quite a liking to the German language. So fresh out of high school, instead of heading to college, he went and regular pioneered in Germany for a year.
When he got back, he was different- but no one talked about it.
Then when he was 20, and I was 12, he was disfellowshipped. It came out of nowhere, and shocked everyone.
Fast forward 5 years. Having posted here for a while, I let the lingering thoughts of my old buddy drive for me to search for him online. I found him on facebook, and I sent him a message.
Mostly it was just to say hey, and I that I missed him, and that I no longer had reason to shun him.
He never responded.
So last night, as I cruised the internet (I went to the beach this weekend and got burnt as a mother, and further, I have a hybrid bird flu / SARS thing happening from some late night clothing optional ocean swimming- so I took a couple of extra days off) I stumbled across him on Facebook again. His facebook also contained his instant messanger screen name, and I saw that he was online- so I sent him a message.
And he responded.
He was happy to hear from me, we briefly caught up on the past 8 years or so, my situation, his situation- and then we started talking. Dropping the names of old friends, talking about the congregation dynamic in the hall we both grew up in versus other congregations. It drug up a lot of old memories. Good memories. One brother's lemon pies and long winded jokes in the parking lot after service. Another sister and the candy she used to hand out after the meeting. We took a walk together down the road through our childhood, and it felt good. Granted, we never got a Christmas morning, or a birthday dinner, but we got something decent, and we both agreed to hold on to it.
Since it was about 3 am when we both quit talking, we swore to no longer be strangers, and to not let time seperate us like God's love had.
And as I closed that little window, I was sitting in the hall again. With my mom beside me, and his mom beside him, all of us listening to Bro. Tooks call down doom and gloom from the platform as Sister Limer sat in front of us and nodded her head. It wasn't the best childhood, but it was mine.
And there's no redeals in life.