Tania and Linda were inseparable in high school. They met at the top of the hill near Tania’s h
ouse at precisely 8 every day so they could walk together.
At school they had different class schedules but they sat together at lunch and walked home together after school and lingered before saying goodbye.
Often at night when they tried to phone each other at night, the line was busy because they were both dialing each other at the exact same time.
Graduation came, then college, then careers, husbands and life became busy. They called on birthdays, and life got in the way of the heart sharing they did when they were young. They were best friends linked for life though and they each knew the love never diminished, the friendship was never broken, it was like a chess game interrupted but they were going to finish it.
Tania felt tired that cloudy day, not physically exhausted, it was like her emotional battery was drained and she felt colourless. Effortlessly in her mind she could see Linda’s face, the laugh in Linda’s voice and she knew what she had to do, no matter the time. Tania reached for the phone, and settled back for a long call.

David was enjoying the beginning of a spring, only last week there was frost on his car and he wondered about Mother Nature’s unpredictability.
Today he stood in his driveway and spring was on his doorstep. The grass looked like it was coming back to life, and he swore he heard a robin but he couldn’t see it. It was a good day to tackle one of his “chores.”
Oil and filter ready, car up on the ramp he lay on his back and wiggled under pushing his oil tray ahead of him. He looked up at the oil pan, wrench all set and his mind played a movie of this exact chore.
He twisted his head looked around, hoping and almost expecting to see his Dad’s feet, and waiting to hear his Dad’s voice. He realized that changing the oil with his Dad had never been a “chore” and for some reason there was lots of easy laughter associated with the dirty job.
Saturday car washing, oil changes, and raking leaves with his Dad growing up weren’t chores at all, never had been. They had been gifts.
He wiggled out, and left the car and oil intact, he knew what he wanted to do right now, kicked off his shoes, leaned back on the recliner and reached for the phone. He was looking forward to a long call.

The best day of my life? That’s a hard question because I’ve had a few for sure. It wasn’t winning the lottery that’s for certain, nice but only nice. I can’t answer that.
I think there is no best day of my life, in my mind I have a collage of moments with the people in my life that I can’t imagine life without.
Reading books to my kids when they were so small, especially at bed time. I loved that. I remember my daughter wearing one of my shirts at age two like a dress and laughing and chasing me, that’s better than the finest wine.
I remember waking u
p freezing in a tent with my son, and wouldn’t trade that for the best day I ever had at work.
The best day of my life, maybe it’s today just counting my blessings.
New car, caviar, four star daydream, No football team for me. I’m rich already.
Walking away and feeling the wind on his face, he smiled, he was thinking of a song, and he started to hum and sing.
** Thanks for reading my post today, I appreciate all comments and suggestions.