Last week, I celebrated my 12th birthday with a group of friends. These are friends I only get to meet once every few years when Mr. B. and I are on holidays. They prepared 4 colorful cupcakes for me, we had nice balloons, photo taking and lots of fun. But I do miss friends from "back home", especially my best friend Russell.
While I was having a grand time celebrating my birthday, Mr. B. was busy meeting his friends to make sure he can accommodate as many of them as possible during our short stay. These are friends from his childhood, from high school, from college, from previous jobs. Some people he hasn't seen for a year, some he hasn't seen for 33 years. They spent a lot of time eating, catching up on what is happening in their lives, about the good old days - some strangely familiar stories while others Mr. B. were totally unaware of. His friends took him to places from his childhood, vaguely familiar places where he used to study, commute, play or have fun.
Needless to say, one can make many new discoveries about how other people's lives developed through the year - the once protected and sheltered individual whose life became plagued with countless misfortunes, the comical character who never seemed to take life seriously yet became a wealthy healer of the sick, the admired character who eventually became a bitter adult who is still searching for a direction in life.
I have other things in mind, I want remember my 4 delicious cupcakes - the color, the taste. I want to remember the wonderful time I shared with my friends. When I am old, I want to be able to think back and recall all these details because I am sure thinking about them will always put a smile on my face.