More than my luggage

I spent the day yesterday with my dear old friend, J.  As always, he seems to arrive just as I need him.  He's been doing that for 11 years.  Our friendship is the real deal and I'm so enriched by it.  B has even gone so far as to personally thank J for being such a good friend to me.  I cherish him so much.

 

I taught him how to knit yesterday.  Pretty funny, actually, teaching 6 foot 3 inch 278 pound gay guy to knit.  As all new knitters, he was all myopic about it - too tight, too tiny, too tense.  But it was really funny to watch this enormous guy working with little bitty white schwag yarn on knitting needles.  He did great, though.  Just great!  I was so pleased.

 

We spoke at length about the internal work I'm doing and the draw I feel to the Buddhist way of life.  He held me and listened and laughed and loved me and told me how proud he was of me. 

 

We watched Fraggle Rock with the boys, drank coffee, and wondered how in the world time flies so quickly?  My children and his are growing so fast.  We are aging just as fast as they are.  He had just turned 18 when I met him - now he has the most amazing salt and pepper hair and wrinkles around his eyes.  I'm bigger in some areas, smaller in others, and most certainly saggier in almost all places than I was when we first met.  Our love for each other has deepened with each passing year, line, wrinkle, stretch mark, sag, tattoo, piercing, zip code.

 

(Prince Albert is still in the can, although he did pierce both his nipples yesterday and I actually wet my pants in laughter as he told me how he screamed like a little girl and shouted, "Oh sweet Jesus" and then said, "yeah, go ahead and do the other one, too!")

 

There are 3 people (adults) who draw breath in this world that I trust completely.  3 people and 3 people only (adults) who I know will love me no matter what because I know I'll love them no matter what, too - and I love them as I love myself, my children, my soul.  They will listen without judgment, praise my success, sympathise with the failures, and laugh hysterically when I trip over myself.  They are constant to me.  JFL is one of those 3 people.

 

I love you, JFL.  More than my luggage.