I Remember...

I have been MIA for a few days, and I apologize. I'm sure my very strong following of readers have missed my postings greatly. I have a good excuse, as I spent the majority of my weekend driving, with a few hours of a great friend's wedding in between.

Back when we got our invitation to this wedding, Jeff knew that this was be a bad weekend for him. Whether it was because he had to wash his hair, or because he had to go recruiting that weekend, he didn't necessarily know at the time, but he knew he wouldn't be going.

Me, I couldn't take that answer for both of us. For, I had to go, I had no choice. My friend, Tim, was getting married. And Tim, unlike any other friend out there, was my first friend, ever. Well, let me edit that slightly. He was my first friend that my parents didn't chose for me. He was my friend strictly by the smart choice we made when we were four years old. You may remember me talking about my buddy, Timmy in a previous entry: Shovel Cash

I am a very non-sentimental person. I don't tear up for much, but watching my oldest friend stand on the alter and marry a girl that I know is completely wonderful and perfect for him made my eyes water a bit. I remembered all the great times Tim and I had together and just felt complete and utter joy for him.

This was my buddy who delivered the neighborhood newspapers at 6 a.m. every morning. The boy who hated going around and collected the payments alone, would offer me half of his tips for company. I remember throwing footballs at cars driving by while hiding in the bushes. I remember building a number of forts in the woods behind our houses, on the roof of our sheds, and in the winter, behind the washer and dryer in the basement. I remember sitting on the front porch till the early morning hours talking about all the girls that weren't anywhere as perfect as the one he married on Saturday. I remember finding random things on the ground and giving them to each other as gifts. I remember always having a friend to go to parties with as we got older. And, I remember my first visitor in college, buying me too many drinks, and then holding me up while I puked all the way home on the "drunken trolley."

Yup, that's a great friend. One whose wedding I certainly wouldn't miss.

Our plan had always been to get married (not to each other), buy homes across the street from each other, and raise our kids to be best friends. He told me Saturday, he still has that plan in mind and would get right to work on it.