How Old We Feel
Walking Alone

Visit with Val

Valerie, my former across-the-street neighbor, moved from Massachusetts to New York City in 1989.  When her family arrived on Ridge Road more than forty years ago, her twin daughters fit into one carriage.  Once we traded one of our sons for one of her daughters for a school week because they had only girls and we had only boys and we wanted to see how the other half lived. Now she has five grandchildren. 

We still talk every Sunday.

Last week instead of running across the street to see her, I drove to Plymouth, MA. which is about halfway between Falmouth where Val is vacationing on Cape Cod and Cambridge where I am.  We arrived within minutes of each other at the random restaurant we had chosen with the help of Google and gabbed non-stop until we had stayed too long. Then we drove together to a beautiful nearby beach, sat on a big rock and gabbed some more.

The terrible traffic on my way home didn’t bother me. 




Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.


How lovely to be able to catch up with an old friend. Topping it off with sitting at the beach sounds perfect.

The comments to this entry are closed.