The voice on the other end of the phone had me thinking about life on Prospect Hill. Distance was surely measured in years; however, I could tell that the childhood bond, in some small way, connected our disconnected lives. It had been close to 40 years in the making that separated that time from now, yet, amidst the “catching up”, it was that one idea we kept revisiting: growing up in a small northeastern town in that pocket of the world that I have always known as the “Northeast Kingdom”.
In that pocket of the world where living was simplistic, not simple; where there was no fine line between a kid and a grown-up; and when you went out the door after supper, you returned safely after dark. It is in these memories, those bonds of friendship past, and the new friendships developed through the years that make our moments matter.
And in the years between then and now whether it is a phone call unexpected or a cup of coffee with a friend, what I continue to return to are not those lost moments measured in degrees, but the stories shared and the ones still yet to come-until next time…..Teach
