This weekend I will be attending the funeral of a high school friend’s father.
It will be the second funeral I have attended where a childhood friend lost a loved one.
And it all seems surreal, like I shouldn’t be going.
I grew up in Natchez and found shelter among her roaming bluffs and river roads. It was my home.
I had a tight group of friends who I cherish to this day. We all remain connected, and we often plan reunions or even simple phone calls to check up on each other.
Growing up, we were more like family than friends. We were there for each other during fun, challenging and awkward times. We held each other up, defended each other when necessary, found comfort in our laughter and sought refuge in our tears.
We were together as our lives began to transition into adulthood. And we thought we would know each other forever.
So, at this moment, it still feels strange to get that phone call that one of their parents has died. We shouldn’t be burying parents. We were supposed to have more time.
These parents were just as much a part of my childhood has my friends were. They welcomed you into their homes. They fed you when you were hungry. They gave you a bed when you were tired. They straightened you up when you chose the crooked path. And they celebrated your triumphs as if you were their own child.
And now, we are beginning to see them pass onto to the next life.
Unfortunately, funerals are sometimes one of the few moments you can see those childhood friends. With spouses, children and jobs it can become more difficult to catch up like you used to when you were younger.
But in the midst of death and sorrow, there are moments of laughter and nostalgia.
You begin to recall funny moments forever etched in your memory. You still call each other by those quirky nicknames. You break bread together. And for a moment, you go back in time.
As tragedy looms over your head, there is an odd feeling of security and safety as you are surrounded by people who knew and know you.
There will be more funerals. There will be more pilgrimages back to that hometown. There will be more shoulders to cry on. And there will be more laughs to share.
And as you sit in those funeral services, you will silently look over at your childhood friend without saying a word. Their eyes will meet yours and a feeling of gratitude and love will pass.
An unbreakable bond is formed with those people you knew growing up. And as you continue to grow and experience the next stage, you smile.
Your roots will always be tangled, and in the end you always go back to the people who were there in the beginning.
