I visited my favorite friend today when I returned to North Carolina. I’ve talked about my friend before: “Vera.”
Six months ago, when I last saw her, she recognized me. Not where I was from exactly, or how she knew me, but she knew me.
Six months ago she knew that her husband was dead, and she mourned his loss.
Six months ago she knew that her son was grown and lived with his wife in another faraway state.
Now, she believes her husband is still alive, and working. She’s happy to go home and see him at the end of the day. He travels a lot, so he stays busy.
Now, she thinks her son is unmarried and still a young man. She’s hoping he finds a woman he loves, but she’s not going to press the issue.
And now, she still knows me. She recognized my face immediately.
“Don’t forget about me!” she said as I went to leave.
“Never,” I replied.
