Dandelion

Yesterday as I was painting I was listening to The Very Best of Cat Stevens on the stereo and it brought back memories of a friendship of the past, a friend whom I have lost contact with over the years. She lived on the corner of my block when I was in high school. She was tall, blonde, and easygoing. She wore combat boots and frayed bell-bottom jeans and called herself Dandelion. I thought she was very cool. She was creative and funny. We spent a lot of time in her basement making candles, drawing, writing poetry, listening to music, partying and watching Night Gallery and Cheech and Chong while her wild cat was bouncing off the walls. We laughed a lot. We rode our bicycles and dreamed of going on a cross-country ride. We were young and idealistic. Then she married young and had a beautiful baby boy and our relationship changed into a more mature friendship but she didn't lose the essence, the free-spiritedness, that she truly was. As time marched on we stayed in touch sporadically depending on where we were living and what was going on in our lives. We have both had to deal with some incredibly tough losses and somehow we lost touch. So it struck me as I was brushing on the paint, giving new life to my old cabinets, that I wanted to call her up to renew our friendship, to paint her back into my life. Good friends are too valuable to lock away in our minds, to be recalled only moments at a time. Like good silver, they should be brought out and enjoyed, refreshed, polished, and updated. Otherwise they may tarnish.

Real good friends should stick together
Through life's bends and through life's weather
Time flies by, our lives go on
We wonder where that friendship's gone.
Dandelion