It was a good week. I celebrated another birthday, 58 in all, and the fact that I’m that old still amazes me. How can my body be that old when my wife tells me I have the mind of a child? Oh well, that’s another story. Along with receiving so many best wishes from folks, I had the chance to spend a little time with the two best friends that I’ve ever had. Neither is a family member, but each is as special as one.
Brother Jim is preparing for the construction of a new out building at his home. First, however, he needed to rid himself of the old one that sat in the way. He had considered tearing it apart, but the hoarder in me cried “foul,” so I told Jim I’d take the building. His demand was that the mover of the thing wouldn’t destroy his yard in the process. I had no concerns about that. A call to Billy Hayes put all worries to rest. He brought a wrecker to Jim’s weaved it through obstacles, pulled it onto the bed of the rollback, and left. Perhaps one branch was snapped from a shrub, but no ruts were left.
Billy and I used to spend huge amounts of time together in the summers. We coached baseball teams for what seemed to be eons. Over those years, we re-lived games and plays that our teams, in general, and our sons, specifically, made. At the same time, we shared frustrations we had about baseball, work, and family. Tow men can’t sit under a carport for hours at a time as they discuss some of the most important things in life without coming out on the other side as friends.
Billy has done so many favors for me over the years. I wish I could say I’ve done the same, but anyone who knows me is aware of my lack of skill in most things. Oh, I’ve helped here and there when his children needed tutoring for school. I’ve ferried William to some games when Billy was working too late to get him at home and arrive at the ball park on time. Regardless of whose done what for the other, we have remained good friends. Now our time together is short and sporadic. However, we pick up right where we left off at the last visit. Our friendship is still tightly knitted.
On the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend. Doug Meister and his wife Diane stopped over on their ways back to Louisville, KY after a week at the beach in North Carolina. We sat around the screened porch, ate some barbeque, and toured the changes that had taken place in Knoxville over the years since Doug left nearly twenty years ago.
Doug and I became friends at church. He was the associate pastor. We played softball together for years. A hard as it is for some to believe, we had a good team that won its fair share of games. Doug and I developed a friendship because of our common interests. Too, we both liked to engage in deep discussions about serious topics. We could drink a beer and debate religious, political, social, or sport topics. Our friendship began with sport, but it thrived in more laid back way. Where Billy and I exercised muscles as we coached, Doug and I performed mental gymnastics.
Both friends have been important in the lives of my children, especially Dallas. Doug baptized Dallas; Billy coached him in baseball. Doug developed programs that helped to develop Lacey’s faith; Billy fixed mangled parts of her wrecked cars. My two children are better people for having known my friends.
Yep, the past week has been a good one. I had the chance to spend time with the two best friends I have outside my immediate family members. We didn’t renew friendships; they were always there. Instead, we stirred the embers to allow the flames to burn brightly once again. Seeing Billy and Doug was good, two blessings for the week.
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