No matter how many years have passed (thirty-two) since I moved away from Richmond, I have always considered it to be my home. Despite the fact that I have no dwelling to call my own there, it is the place that holds my heart. I grew up with some of the nicest people I have ever met in all of my wanderings. They are the family that resides in my spirit.
I was supposed to spend the day, furiously packing my bags for home.Tying up loose ends. Making apologies to the dogs. Instead, I am wandering around in circles like a dog looking for a good spot to lie down.
My oldest and dearest friend --the one who made my teen years fun and exciting --the one who forged gallantly through the wilderness of our youth to adulthood --is leaving for a place that won't allow her to come back.
I thought I could get to her in time, but her husband called me yesterday. She is slipping away quicker than first thought. Visitors (and the medications she has to take for pain) make her nervous. Not wanting to add to her distress, I cancelled my trip.She needs to do this in her own brave way.
Going home will never be the same again.
