I’m off to Dyersburg, TN – or as a friend always called it, Dyers Vegas – for the weekend.  It’s the first time I’ve been this year, actually since Christmas.  I always go this time of year for my Dad’s birthday, which was yesterday, and for my birthday, which is Monday.

This week thanks to Facebook, I”ve actually reconnected with an old friend who I went to school with when I lived there.  She moved away to northern Missouri when she was in high school.  I actually drove up for her high school graduation back in 1995.  It’s been great emailing back and forth this week and catching up on life and reminiscing about days gone by.

Most of my friends from way back when have moved on or I’ve lost touch with them, so when I go home the entire time is spent with my family which is the way it should be.  My mom always talks about running into someone “at Wal~Mart” and they asked her how I was doing and said they wished I’d come visit them.  I usually don’t though.  I’m only in town for three days and I don’t care to run up and down the road to try to catch up with people who I haven’t seen in over 15 years.  “Tell them to come see me,” I always tell her on the phone when she mentions who she saw this week, although I know they’d never drive to St. Louis for a visit.

I mentioned that in an email to my friend, how we don’t mean to lose touch.  It just happens.  Back in college, I was a big letter writer and usually spent a day off writing to several friends, including my mother or sister who only lived an hour and a half away at that time.  We didn’t have email back then.  I was still writing poems and stories on my computer-based word processor.  Soon, you forget to write back.  A few days pass, then a few weeks, and the next thing you know it’s been two years since you’ve heard from them.  I don’t even know when it became uncool to pick up the telephone and say hi, but that never happened either.

An old friend (and ex) from Memphis drove up two years ago to help us paint the inside of the house before we moved in.  A Christmas card followed.  I think I’ve talked to him on the phone maybe three times since then.  No Christmas card last year.  No emails.  But I know that if I saw him tomorrow – or if he called – we could both pick up right where we left off and never care about the fact that we haven’t stayed in touch.

Back in the day, every day at school was a long one.  The summer’s were long too, until they were over.  Christmas break filled my heart with joy and I wished it would never end.  Now, I’ll be 33 on Monday, and I barely remember turning 32.  Those long years spent in school disappeared in a blink of an eye.  Instead of homework, book reports, and science projects, my days grow old with deadlines at work, decisions about what to have for dinner or what’s on TV that night, and the monotany of my life is only broken up by birthdays, holidays, or vacation.  So, that’s why this weekend is important.  It’s a nice break from the alarm clock and the hussle.  It’s a three hour drive back home to Mama’s house, which is the house me and my siblings grew up in.  It’s a hug from my nephew and niece.  It’s a chance to see my Dad and his toothless grin.  And it’s time with Mom.  Nothing beats that.

So, here’s to you, 33.  I can’t think of anywhere else I’d want to be right now….well, 25 perhaps!