It was one long conversation. We just moved locations. From morning coffee to walks on the beach to lunch, back to the beach, to wine on the tower during sunset, to dinner of local seafood. I think we covered the gamut with little care in the world as to the time of day. A timeless weekend with my best friend from high school. Over forty years of water under that bridge.

We talked about the past – who is where doing what. We talked about our families – the craziness we caught and the craziness we are trying to change. We talked about our fears and fantasies. Regrets and hopes. What we have power over and what we don’t. We talked about who has died and who is dying and how they are dying and how we want to die. We gabbed on about love and hate and forgiveness. We touched on the superficial like the best products to prevent aging, the hell of trying on swimsuits and the fact that neither of us have ever watched one episode of Game of Thrones. I gave her relationship advice. She gave me travel tips. She relived the story of having to put her Golden Lab, Duke, to sleep. We cried.

We also laughed. A lot.

Yet somehow, we always circled back to the now. Like sand in an hourglass, living in present time is not only a gift, but the only assurance we really have.

I don’t know when I’ll make it back down to her ocean paradise. I’m sure we left untouched content and ripened feelings for next time. But, for now, I am grateful for the chance to cut time from my life and spend it with my oldest friend (she is not flattered when I call her that).

Because, you can’t ever make an old friend. She holds a part of my history that no one ever will. That is something I choose not to let go of.

For the rise of your life …