Yesterday, Norma and I had the most delightful lunch with too old friends. Technically, they are new friends but older than us, which makes them doubly special.
Annie Bess is 97 and Sara is 87. Compared to them, I felt at least 77! They are both energetic, fashionable, funny and mentally sharp as two tacks.
Even if you lose your keys, forget where you parked your car or for a moment can’t recall your last name, our brains still store more information than any computer. As we talked about the old days – both Sara and Annie Bess were raised in West Point in the 20s and 30s – they dredged up memories by the buckets full.
One of the best pieces of advice I’ve read recently is to reminisce with your friends and family about past times. Reminiscing helps us put our lives into perspective and we begin to see how each stage fits into the grander scheme. The happy times are the golden prisms that catch the sunlight and warm the soul.
Our high school is holding a school-wide reunion next weekend and I’ve been eating little more than the scraped crumbs off burned toast and shredded eggshells in order to get back within spitting range of my high school weight. How futile. How silly. I think we’ll just make all our classmates check their glasses and contact lenses at the door and we’ll all pretend we’re 16 again.