“1-2-3-GLOW!” the crowd yelled. The giant balloons lit their flames in unison, creating a lovely display of color across the horizon. Moments earlier we’d started across the same field in broad daylight just as dusk began. We crossed it, visiting our favorite balloons up close–a gigantic dinosaur, a familiar Pepsi can, one with children holding hands around its belly. Just as we sat down to enjoy our ice cream treats, we surveyed the field before us and darkness fell down on the horizon like a curtain. Shaped like lightbulbs, the balloons took turns lighting up the sky until the crowd asked them to create the glow together. It was a magical sight!
We have laughed together–oh, we have laughed–beginning with our first memory (of a party cake, no less) and throughout many, many more.
We have even weathered arguments that would have divided most households!
We have felt each other’s pain when one of us has been hurt or experienced a challenge in life that has been frightening or scary.
We have befriended one another’s new sets of friends along the way, and moved through the new phases of life that adult hood has sent to us.
We have been so close that we have talked everyday, sometimes several times, and we have gone for weeks or months without finding a moment to call, but when we find a moment to connect again, we just pick right up where we left off, as if we’d just spoken yesterday in the grocery store over a head of lettuce.
It’s not the same kind of party we used to throw, way back when with the party cake. But then again, we don’t have the same kind of glow as we did back then either. Our “glow” is a different kind of glow. Like the balloons across the street, we glow from the inside now. We’re powered by a different kind of spark, and for that, I’m thankful. And for her company in my friends on the horizon of my life, I’m especially grateful.