You can't make old friends

Erin and I went through a rebellious phase and this was it.  We had a hammock and it was forbidden.

We also couldn't tie knots (not an Eagle Scout between us) and we tied an excessive amount of inferior knots hanging the hammock between bookshelves.  When our resident assistant was there, knocking on our door in an effort to catch us in the act of using our hammock, we furiously untied 12 million knots (give or take) while trying to suppress our giggling.

We have both gone on to live upstanding law abiding lives, so I guess we got it out of our systems.

I love Erin.

It was my very good fortune when we were matched as roommates our freshman year at BYU.

We talked on the phone the other night, for over an hour, and it was sublime.  We decided we need to talk more often.

She is one of my oldest friends.  We knew each other when we were as young as the above picture.  We've visited each others' childhood homes.  We know each others' siblings and parents.  We have a lot in common and when I talk to her I feel understood and loved and I benefit from her wisdom.

She is a woman of faith and humor and resilience.

We've known each other almost 25 years and at any time in those years, if we'd seen each other, we could have talked like no time had passed.

You can't make old friends.