The Payoff

At first glance, I have a pretty unusual group of friends who have been in my life over the years. Although I think all of them are pretty darned good-looking, it's really their brains that first attracted me. I am drawn to interesting people, and the more unique their personalities are, the more I want to get to know them. Tell me stories! Speak to me in languages I can't understand! Entertain me with all the weird things you learned from the natives (and the scary things you ate)! I love it all!

I've had countless roommates and met thousands of people between all the places I've lived and worked, but I'm still in touch with only a fraction of them. Of those, I can't think of one that isn't smart, funny, and accomplished. That's just my thing. I don't collect snow globes, Precious Moments figurines, or shot glasses, but I have an enviable and priceless collection of friends, in my opinion.

One of these is my dear Brent. Although he grew up in St. Louis too, I didn't meet him until we were in college. It was in January 1983, and I was standing barefoot in the snow in front of my apartment. I think I was wondering if powder snow was less cold than wet snow or some other stupid question that doesn't hold up very well with time. One of us must have been wearing a Cardinals shirt or something because we figured out quickly we were from the same place. That's all it took. He has been one of my dearest friends for 26 years now. Brent is one of the smartest, funniest guys I know, and very strong. Whenever I annoyed him (which was often), he would scoop me up and throw me in the nearest bush. Didn't matter how scratchy, snow-filled, or poky it was, I was going in it. He stuck with me through trauma, heartbreak, getting kicked out of college (long story--I got back in), graduation, our marriages, our babies, you name it. We hung out in St. Louis in the summers and at BYU during school. We went to a Cubs game in Chicago and Cardinals games in the bleacher seats in St. Louis. Sweetie and I visited Brent and his lovely wife in Maryland, they visited us here in Utah.

Which brings us to today. I popped over to Stover Hall (my old stomping grounds) at BYU and Brent's son Tom took Drummer Boy on a tour of the dorms so he can make up his mind about where he wants to live next year. Seeing our sons talking and laughing together was the best payoff I can imagine. Who would have thought 26 years ago that we would still be good friends and that now our children would know each other? When I mentioned this to Brent on the phone tonight and observed how smart, focused, and on-the-ball the boys were, he said that Drummer Boy must take after Sweetie's side of the family.

Thanks for being my friend, my dear. You're the best!