Sometimes One Good Friend Is Enough

Brothers of Briar

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RSteve

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One of my closest friends went to H.S. with my late wife. He was career army, Command Sergeant Major, E-9. He has advanced college degrees and turned down direct commissions several times. When I asked why he elected not to be a commissioned officer, he simply replied, I preferred being an NCO. I have never known him to tell a falsehood. He is honest and sincere and you always know where you stand with him. He's always the first to phone to see how I'm doing. When he was 48, 27 years in service, stationed at the Pentagon, he re-upped for his final three years, to go an even 30. He failed the physical based on a heart murmur, and forced to retire. He's 74, healthy and my friend.
 
I’ve moved a great deal (IMO) for work over the course of my adult life: each of the Carolinas, a decade in the Hampton Roads region of Virginia, five years in Louisville, and finally the Tampa area since ‘17. And the fiancé and I are looking at moving for good to TN or western VA within the next year or so.

Anyway, I’ve found that the older I get, the harder it is to make new friends. As it stands now, I’ve got quite a few friends scattered throughout several states. But, for me at least, I still consider my best friends to be the ones I grew up with. My “Stand By Me” boys, I call them. Like the movie.

Years sometimes go by without contact. But that closeness remains. In fact, my best friend since kindergarten, who I’ve seen relatively little since the turn of the millennium, is going to stand as my best man at my wedding in November.

That choice just feels right.

I was married before, for nearly a decade. My best man in that debacle was the bride’s brother. We HAD kinda been buddies in college. But in retrospect, that’s just as messed up a decision as marrying that one in the first place.

But I digress.
 
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