We switched parishes a few years ago. While I respected the family conclave decision, I have missed these people. These people hold a big place in my heart.
I was excited for the opportunity to visit them today at Mass. I was also nervous. I have this incredibly unusual anxiety that goes along with reuniting with old friends. You see, I LOVE people. I do. I love them soooooo much. It makes me nervous to see them again because... well... I'm afraid they won't love me anymore. Maybe this is silly. I'm terrified that someone I still love enormously will extend a hand and say "Good to see you again." I want them to want to hug me as much as I want to hug them. A handshake would be so sad.
So I was nervous. That's probably part of why I fell down the stairs (see Part 1). I was so nervous and wound-up that I stopped paying attention to where my feet were going.
But St. Gabe's was as welcoming and loving as ever. The "old gang" has come back with the return of the old choir director. I felt so loved. It was incredible and wonderful. It made me so happy. The surprise, followed by the huge smile, and the running toward me with arms wide open.
Excuse the extreme, uncharacteristic sap of this post. I was just so happy to see these people again. I felt like I had come home.
I'm going to go out with the choir director (who also was my voice teacher in high school) and his right hand man to catch up. We're going out for drinks. Last time I saw these people, I was 18. Weird that we can hang out at a bar together now. But so wonderful that the friendship is still there.
As Michael Smith and Amy Grant sing,
"And friends are friends forever
If the Lord's the Lord of them
And a friend will not say never
'Cause the welcome will not end
Though it's hard to let you go
In the Father's hands we know
That a lifetime's not too long to live as friends."
Cheesy. But wonderful and love-full.
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