“If one's friends do not openly laugh at him, they are not in fact his friends.”
- Dean Koontz
Friday evening we went to my friend Ray's daughter's wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony, the bride was stunning, the groom, a handsome, stand-up young man, the gathered were festive, the food was good, the speeches were funny and touching. No one could want for better.
On the drive there, I was telling Kendra how meaningful it was for us to get to be there. I've known his daughter since she was a little girl, and Ray is one of my oldest and dearest friends. I've known him for 44 years now. He's one of the first people I got to know when I moved to Springfield for college after the Marine Corps. I was going on to her about what a great friend he's remained all this time and all the crazy stuff we'd been through together…the idiot college behavior, sparse finances, disastrous romances, and every other thing life dishes out to us all. How he is possibly the best-natured person I've ever known. How he radiates positivity, not in a hokey way, just in a Ray way. Wherever he shows up, it's always Ray and his big ol' smile. It's hard to be in a funk when he's around. Anybody that knows him would agree. All these things I was telling Kendra.
“Well, have you ever told him that?” she asked. “No…No." (Why would any guy do that?) “Well you should,” she said, "instead of always just bustin' his chops about driving a Subaru." That was funny. I'm still chuckling about it, but point taken. At the wedding, I told Ray how I'd been telling Kendra all these great things about him and our friendship and what she had said. After we got done laughing he said, “You're not the worst. There's a woman here at the wedding.” (he named her) “that wears me out about it.”
Anyway, thanks to Kendra, Ray now knows I appreciate him and our long friendship. I'm not letting up on the Subaru thing, though.