There were three of them. Sitting in my office, I looked to my left where my phone sat on a charger. Lighting up the screen, a text alert had just arrived. I leaned over and peered through my new spectacles, feeling a sudden and pleasant sense of surprise overtake me as I read the name; wow, the text came from one of my very best high school friends, Matt. And, I could tell, photos accompanied the message. Feeling intrigued, I took a brief moment from reading email and slid the message right to unlock my phone. And there they were, three of them; the message read:
“Grandson and I in San Diego!”
Above the words, three photographs of Matt and a small baby boy, only a few months old, adorned the small iPhone screen. I felt a smile creep across my face. “My gosh,” I thought, “he really is a grandpa. Amazing.”
My mind suddenly jumped decades back in time, and I found myself in Matt’s backyard in Portland, a place we often spent weekend nights in sleeping bags when we were thirteen. We constantly talked of the future in those days: Who would we marry? Where would we live? Would I become a music star someday? We dreamed together, and, as young boys, we wondered…where would life take us?
Turns out, life took us to different colleges, different countries at times, and down very different paths. My oldest daughter will be nine in a few weeks, while Matt’s oldest just had her first baby in her mid-twenties.
But gazing at the pictures, at Matt’s face, he somehow seemed the same to me– still the boy I looked up to as a kid and whose friendship I still cherish to this day.