It was just another ordinary September day on the Oregon Coast. It was a cloudy, off and on rainy day...you know, the usual ones we get in September on the cioast. I was busying myself with some crucial tasks, trying to organize our tiny space, when my cell phone rang. I don't assign original rings to specific people, so I could not tell who it was just by the ring. But the Caller ID gave it away! It was my dearest childhood friend from Santa Monica, Joan Trent, and I am always delighted to hear from her.
We chatted about a number of things, including childhood memories, when she got down to the purpose of her call. She had been going through some old Christmas letters that she kept in a notebook and ran across one from me. It had been written in the year 1990. It had madre her laugh and she wanted to share it with me. Oh, she is so much like me--keeping verylittle thing that has some sentimental meaning to her. She read it to me and we had a good laugh together. Such a dear friend, that one!
I don't know how long we talked, but knowing phone calls from the past, it had to have been nearly an hour. Seventy-five years as friends, and we still keep in touch. I love that girl and am so grateful that she hasn't disappeared like so many others have. Thank you, Joan, for turning an otherwise ordinary day on the Oregon Coast into a day filled with sunshine and smiles.
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