Photo: Me & Judy Truitt during our Florida vacation a couple of years ago.
There’s no LuLu story today. I haven’t been able to ride my bike since Friday. I love Wisconsin. It’s been my home for over thirty years. We have the most beautiful summers on earth. It hardly ever gets in the 90s or 100s and during the summer, and we have the greenest grass this side of Ireland. Most summer nights, we sleep with our windows open, no need for air conditioning. Our autumns are even more beautiful as we watch our trees being slowly painted with bright yellows, oranges, and deep reds by a Holy hand.
Our springs, however, suck. They’re cold, wet, and windy and behave like a willful child. They give us just enough warmth to fool us into thinking we can pull off our socks. And when we do, wham! It snows one more time, or drops twenty degrees.
Hence, the last few days have not been conducive for an outing with LuLu. But, I haven’t just sat in the house eating bon-bons. No sir. I’ve been getting ready for the Truitt/Cleveland Reunion. The Truitts, Clevelands and another dear couple planted a church together in here in Wisconsin. Everyone has since moved away except for us. However, that didn’t keep the Truitts and us from raising our kids together. We are best friends, and our kids are best friends. Now, it’s time that our grandchildren become best friends as well. So, over Memorial Day weekend, the twenty-four of us are going to gather at our house for fun and games. We’ve started ‘trash-talking’ over the airwaves as we prepare to compete in horseshoes, washers, red rover and duck-duck-goose.
Once on Josh’s sixth birthday, all he wanted was a weekend with his buddy, Todd. So, the Truitts met us half way (about a three hours trip) at a Hardees. When we walked in the restaurant, there sat a huge decorated box in which Todd jumped out of. Josh got his birthday wish.
The Truitts are the folks we’ve laughed together with until our toes curled from the exertion. They are the friends that sometimes words just aren’t necessary. For over thirty some years we’ve been there for each other during births, deaths, weddings and life’s other celebrations. Last year, when Gary was diagnosed with cancer, the Truitts met us at Mayo for his surgery. When the Fake Knee came into my life, it was Judy Truitt who came and nursed me those first critical days. We haven’t lived in the same town in years, but a phone call is all it takes.
So, I’ve been cleaning and preparing beds and sprucing up things for our first reunion where all kids and all grandkids will be present and accounted for. This special friendship is one of God’s sweetest blessings.
How about you? Got any soul mate friends you’d like to talk about? I’d love to hear.
Later,
deb
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