You Never Really Forget Old Friends, Do You?

Yesterday was the 38th birthday of a man who was at one time very dear to me. So dear, that I named my first born son after him. I lost custody of this friendship when my ex and I split up, and that hurt almost as much as the dissolution of my marriage.

This man was a childhood friend of my ex. In high school they were like one animal with two heads. You rarely saw one without the other and they considered each other brothers. In fact, their birthdays are just four days apart. He accepted me into his life when my ex and I started dating. Accepted me so much that he treated me like a little sister.

He was there on our first date, on my graduation day, at our engagement party, he was the best man at my wedding. He was one of the first we told when I became pregnant, and one of the first to visit us in the hospital when Mr. A was born. He is Mr. A's godfather and to this day is part of my ex's life.

Our friendship couldn't withstand the twists and turns of my divorce from his oldest friend. And really, at the time, knowing that he was being pulled between us, I told him that I knew the time was coming when he'd need to make a choice, and I understood that I wasn't going to be winning that battle.

Most of the time, I don't think about him, but each May 7th, his face pops into my head and I remember the years of friendship we enjoyed together. I hope this year is good to him.

Until later...