That's what friends are for?

When we are familiar with the routines that our families and friends have, and when we notice a deviation from those routines, we watch out.

"Where is the blog" messaged an old high school friend.  In addition to replying to her, I thought maybe I ought to preempt another from my school days, to which he responded with "I was wondering what happened."

In the age of Facebook when "friends" has come to mean something vastly different from what the word would have meant to generations past, it is gratifying to know there the old meaning continues to be valid. I wrote to two other high school friends thanking them for meeting with me; silent readers they are of this blog. Two friends had a wonderful gift waiting for me.

"It is a break in the rain. Go for your walk" suggested another friend.

I did.  I am old and wise enough to act on any good friend's suggestions.

Plus, it would be my first hello to my two other friends--the Willamette River and the bike/walk path--in the new year. After that eventful snow and ice event of last year.

The river was brown as it always becomes after the rains.  Very few people out on the path.  A young couple was walking slowly ahead of me.  The woman seemed to have a colored hijab on and as I passed them, they were certainly whispering, perhaps sweet nothings, in some language other than the ones that I can easily identify.

A wet and shaggy dog kept going into the river and then rushing back to the path in order to be with the man and wife who were pushing a stroller from which an infant was taking in the whole world.  I was reminded of my father's joke about rebirth. His old joke was that when Hindus did enough good things in their lives, they would be then be rewarded with a rebirth in the United States.  But, after his stay in the US, and after observing how my dogs were treated with beds and treats and foods and comforts, he modified his joke that the reward will be rebirth as a dog in the US.

The sun briefly came out. As it faded back behind the clouds, the landscape looked like a painting. I hurriedly clicked.

I nodded and smiled at the few people on the path.  As I neared home, I saw a neighbor in his backyard enjoying his cigar and watching the football game. "Happy new year" I yelled.  He waved back.  He is not a "friend" in the old meaning of the word. Nor are we Facebook friends. But, I know he always wishes me well.

Will you not be happy and content with such a day?