Open Door Policy

Rumor has it, they're separated.

I heard it from a mutual friend.  Coincidentally, not ironically, he knew before me.  I suppose there are many reasons for this.  He's done a better job at staying in touch with all those people from what seems a life time ago.  He hasn't done that one thing I am guilty of:   disappearing.

My first reaction incidentally was a quick ego riddled unspoken I told you so.  I saw this coming before they married.  I imagined this day even when I became an ordained minister for the sole purpose of uniting them under God.  But, I also, hoped I would be wrong.

He's fallen off the face of the map, the mutual friend tells me.  No one can find him.  No one will say anything about what happened or his whereabouts. 
The mutual friend adds, Should we be worried?

No, I reply.

I wasn't in the mood to explain how he is to the mutual friend.  No one knows him better than me.  And I don't say that to brag or to remind him all I have been through with this old friend.

I doubt he will ever surface again.  Reconciliation or not.  He's the kindest man I have ever known.  He wears his heart on his sleeve even to his own detriment. 

I think about him all the time.  Our last conversation took place about five years ago and it lasted six hours in the middle of the night as his wife was out of town.   Every conversation I've ever had with him, I've treated it as if it would be our last one.  And it's because; well, it doesn't matter.



Just over a week ago, I was sitting at a three legged desk in a gritty hotel room. taking inventory of my life.  I found out who my real friends are.... 

Nothing replaces old friends.

With old friends, regardless of time in between conversations, the door is always open.


Rumor has it, he's disappeared. 

There is so much I want to say to him.  Probably nothing different than the last time we spoke or all the times before that.

During our last conversation, we were discussing the passing of an old friend.  He couldn't make the funeral so I filled him in on all the details.  More specifically, how the church was overflowing with people.  I mentioned that three school buses showed up with high schoolers whom he coached and taught. They all came to pay their final respect.

There was silence on the other end of the phone. 

I knew he was crying because that's what he always did.  He's always been a big crybaby. 

When he regained his composure, he said, It's just so ironic.

I knew what he meant.


I will never understand why some of us become more introverted as we grow older.  I don't know why some of us isolate ourselves when we need people the most.  It always seems those who are most loved are the same people who remain the most distant.

I wish I knew how to change that.

I love the open door policy afforded to us by old friends. 

It's a shame we rarely use it.