It's a small world, for good and bad

First, some exposition. My best friend throughout my childhood, from about age 9 onwards, was a boy named Jimmy. We were both geeky kids who read waaaaay more SF, fantasy, horror, and mythology than might have been good for us. We were inseparable for about five years, and then his parents moved to Portland.

Jimmy was crap at writing letters. He'd occasionally send a card for our birthday (I'm one year older, to the day), but that was about it. But he had this pattern where every three or five years, he'd turn up out of the blue at Mom & Dad's house, and I'd get to talk to him for a few minutes.

Jimmy now teaches Irish dance, is married, and has an 8 year old daughter and a 5 year old son. He was talking to his lovely wife about how my parents had influenced his parenting style, and decided to call them.

No, he didn't know about Mom.

He talked to Dad for a bit, got my number, and called me. It turns out that he had as an equally horrible 2011; his Mom passed away in August.

We're going to be staying in touch this time. It turns out both of us are much better at answering texts than anything else, so that's what we're doing. Sometime in the next few months, we're going to arrange meeting up, so I can finally meet his wife and kids.

I missed him. I'm glad he popped back up in my life.