10/12/2026
๐ ๐ท๐ผ๐๐ฟ๐ป๐ฒ๐ ๐ฏ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ถ๐ป ๐๐ถ๐บ๐ฒ. ๐ฑ๐ฑ ๐๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ฟ๐, ๐๐ผ ๐ฏ๐ฒ ๐ฒ๐
๐ฎ๐ฐ๐.
I'm on the last leg of an almost two-week journey, sitting in a beautiful home overlooking a lake in northern Michigan.
I'm visiting two of my dearest friends.
We met 55 years ago, shortly after I graduated from college and began teaching in Milan, MI. He was a school administrator, and I taught at the middle school where he eventually became the principal. She was a teacher of spinning and dyeing and did workshiops at Greenfield Village. Early on, the three of us became the best of friends. And we've remained that way ever since.
Today, he has Alzheimer's, and she is beginning her own journey with dementia.
I came because I wanted to see them again. Perhaps for the last time.
I also came to help their daughter and son by creating an inventory of their home and treasured, world-class antique spinning wheel collection, something that will make things a little easier for them in the years ahead.
When I arrived, he wasn't doing well. He didn't really remember me.
But something wonderful has happened.
He's perked up. He's helping me with the cataloging, just like we did in Ann Arbor, in their dining room, so many years ago. We're getting to know each other again. And everyone is amazed at how well he's been doing since I've been here.
In fact, this visit has meant so much to me that I extended my stay by two days. I'm just not ready to say goodbye.
Every morning, I sit and look out at the lake. I work at the dining room table, surrounded by the beauty of northern Michigan and more than half a century of memories.
I think about the young people we were, the lives we've lived, the laughter we've shared, and the extraordinary gift of a friendship that has lasted 55 years.
And sometimes, all those memories come flooding back.
๐ ๐๐บ๐ถ๐น๐ฒ ๐๐ต๐ฟ๐ผ๐๐ด๐ต ๐บ๐ ๐๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ฟ๐.
Because some friendships truly do last a lifetime.