A Fork in the Road

It is time. Maybe it is just because I am older. Or maybe people have just been more attentive as of late. Whatever the reason, the ideology of friendship has suddenly taken top billing on my fodder list.
 
Never has this particular beacon shone so bright.
 
For the longest time, I was convinced that my life's path was designed by someone who really didn't like me. Maybe you've been there.

If you've ever felt lost, unable to find a fork in the road, and forced to travel a single path—one filled with obstacles, rough pavement, unforgiving traffic, and drivers lacking one iota of common sense—then you know what I mean.
 
And… If you parallel my uncompromised conviction to blend idealistic dreams with realistic actions—secure in your faith to turn lemons into lemonade—you march on this path with a confident cadence and forage for only the best of what it has to offer.
 
Fortified by the teachings of a higher power, you move forward with purpose, seeking love, laughter, peace, and redemption in every moment. In the absence of doubt, failure is not in our vocabulary.

Your reality is that you no longer have the rest of your life ahead of you. The days ahead are fewer than those behind. You have, maybe, what… one-quarter of your life left ahead of you, at best? That single thought can rattle your core.
 
And then it happens. Friendship rescues you. You feel a sense of renewal by a smile, a touch, or a laugh at a moment in time that lingers inexplicably. You know in an instant, rejuvenation is in play.
 
As this awakening unfolds, brilliant spotlights illuminate all the wonders of your life with the excitement of a Broadway opening night.

Tuesday night “Beer-thirty” outings transform into treasured escapes. Mid-morning “How’s your day?” check-ins resonate like poetic soliloquies of forgotten pleasures, and the chime of an incoming chat delivers hope with a twinge of delight.
 
The message here is that rescue does not always arrive in the form of an emergency vehicle with flashing lights and blaring sirens. It can be a whispered thank you, a soul-drenching hug, or a renewed old friendship that has survived the cruelty of time.
 
Friendships are blessings, count them often, cherish them always. They might well be that fork in the road less traveled that longs for your footsteps.
 
Oh, and do not discount the September arrival of a 4-foot-tall lighted Grinch Tinseled Yard Sculpture on your doorstep. Even a grumpy green, furry, pot-bellied creature, despite its cynical demeanor, can scream friendship with resounding affection.  Ah, but that is fodder for yet another rant.
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