It's Saturday night. Just hanging out at home, logging a bit of personal time and loving the sub-90-degree evening weather. Lauren and I returned to Boise this afternoon after a quick jaunt down to Salt Lake City to attend a wedding.
Danny Ortega and I met each other around age eight, perhaps nine, as a result of our fathers working on the same shift at a gold mine in Elko. I won't go into the history of our friendship, but somehow we have managed to let eight years slip by without visiting one another... without evening corresponding. Enough time for me to go to college, to Spain, to Elko to California to Boise to Seattle to Boise again for school. Sadly I do not know his path, aside from pursuing his dream of throwing clay and casting a golden relationship with Heidi, whom he married yesterday.
On the drive down, Lauren asked me about my relationship with Danny, which I defined as "one of those soul connections that never fades, regardless of time or miles apart". He and I formed a bond through hours of trampoline and video game time, and I felt robbed when his family returned to Salt Lake City for personal health reasons during our junior high years. That fairytale definition of the impenetrable friendship seldom exists, and as I spoke to Lauren I found myself worrying whether or not the connection did survive; what if too much time had passed and we both had changed too much?
I could not believe my apprehension as we walked down the dirt drive, toward the humble tucked-away home in Midvale, Utah. I realized I would likely see him from afar, perhaps catch his eye, but remain unrecognized through his filtered haze of wedding jitters/stress/sleep deprivation. I did not expect to see him come strolling out the front door to mingle amongst the surrounding family, smiling and habitually readjusting his glasses in the same style he always did. I wormed my way through the family, stuck out my hand and waited for his eyes to register my presence. There was no handshake; instead a mutually initiated strong embrace between two men; two men who last interacted as two boys in an entirely different phase of life.
The wedding proceeded in a surreal, magical blur. Danny and Heidi spent an entire year fashioning beautiful metal structures, string lights and lamps, amassing unique chandeliers and lights and throwing personalized bowls for the guests to take home in remembrance of the ceremony. I did manage to speak with Danny for a brief spell before we returned to the hotel, and the conversation was light and did not touch on the hollow regret of not keeping in better contact. He was so happy, so happy. I have not felt that vicarious happiness for any friend before.
Lauren and I returned at 5:00pm, having jetted home to attend sister Drew's going-away-to-college party at The Reef downtown. I opted out at the last minute, feeling a strange sense of something unresolved or neglected. I suppose this was it, the need to digest the experience and resolve a strange melancholic mood. These moments instill such perspective... you begin to wonder why you pursue certain avenues and catch a brief glimpse of the threads running through the years; threads of contentment and satisfaction and that strong, nauseatingly powerful sensation in your gut reminding you that the relationships, the love given and received is what substantiates our existence.
The sun has finally set and the summertime noises warrant investigation. I'm headed out for a walk. Thanks for listening. -Calvino
