I wish that lens in my eyeball could click photos. Every little piece of chrome on the cars on I-10 (with my eyes shielded by my Ray Ban prescription sunglasses) turned into a huge gleaming flashes of pain. We were the blind leading the blind trying to make out interstate and street signs. I'm hoping I wasn't seeing my future since I have the beginning of macular degeneration in one eye.
The stressful drive was worth it. Home is where your friends are, and after the frantic blinding drive in rush hour traffic, we met friends for dinner we hadn't seen in the eight years since we left Seattle. With friends that close, it's like you haven't missed a step. We were suddenly home.
Craig was the designated driver that night. His right shoulder may be bad, but he always sees better than I do at night, and I was not seeing well at all! At first I didn't get it. Huge floating Christmas displays hovered in the sky over Phoenix. Oh my God! What is that? Craig laughed. They were jets waiting to land at Sky Harbor. Every headlight on every car was a gigantic beaming Star of Bethlehem for both of us! You don't have to be in Texas for the stars at night to be big and bright! Old eyes evidently don't recover quickly.
We're thinking about a long overdue reunion trip back to the Northwest in July.
Good friends are like stars.... You don't always see them, but you know they are always there.