Ok, I'm going to try this. It's early.

Well, not so early.

But earlier than I've written in a long time.

Right now, my house is quiet, save for the chorus of birds outside of our open windows.

And by chorus, I mean deafening, rock concert of f-ing wild life.

Oh, the country. I've never heard so many birds in my life. And they don't just sing. They SCREECH. Constantly. During the day, all I hear are those damn things tweeting and tweeting and tweeting. And then at night, it's a different kind of bird. The owls don't stop hooting. And there is this thumping. This constant thump, thump, thump, thump.

I don't even know what it is.

But if I ever figure it out, I'm pulling out Zach's shot gun, googling how to load it and then starting target practice on whatever cursed creature needs to thump, thump, thump.

Take a breath.

A big one.

Oh my.

Last night I met with a friend. Last night, I left my adorable little family, well at least the girls and Zach, Stryker comes every where with me. He's my cutest accessory. But anyways, I left my family right after dinner and drove through the rain and thunder and lightening to Village Inn for Pie Night.

Um, Pie Night is fantastic. In case you didn't know.... If you buy anything, anything at all, such as a cup of coffee, Pie is free! Well, at least one piece of fruit pie. But isn't that fantastic?

My kind of event.

But. Shhh. Don't tell the diet.

Oh and I have to buy A La Mode too. I mean, seriously. Fruit Pie without ice cream?

Unacceptable.

So anyways. This friend of mine, is a friend I see like only once every nine months or so. I don't think we've ever let it get over nine months.... But she was a dear, dear, dear friend in college and in my wedding and we went to Sri Lanka together. But as the law of life would have it, we just don't get to see each other very often anymore.

But that's ok.

Because when we do get to see each other we have the best conversations. And I think like an adult and laugh like a college kid and remember some of the best times of my life.

Oh my word. I seriously love to remember. I truly think it's one of the best things about life. I really do. Whenever I am with dear friends, I love to look back on our past lives, remembering the good times and the bad times.

Laughing until we cry.

Crying because that's what I do these days.... uncontrollably.

And getting mad when the occasion calls for it, remembering how so-and-so wronged us, or how we never liked this person who seemed to have it out for us.

Oh. I love it all.

And I can thank my daddy. He taught me how to remember. How to laugh about the past and tell a good story. How to listen to others' memories and make the best out of all of it.

 All growing up, it was really important to my parents for Robbie and I to learn to sit and listen.

Man, my parents were talkers. Like, the kind that have friends and/or family in every single city of every single state and visit with them often and then all they do is sit there and talk. And talk. And talk. For hours and hours an hours and hours.

Not even kidding.

And as kids, they expected us children, to sit there and listen. Not necessarily engage, but listen. Not fidgit. Not play. Not do anything other than listen.

And so we learned how to listen.

As I child I kind of hated it. Well, ok, it depended on the adult they were talking to. But as I grew up, I learned how to love listening to the conversations and memories and opinions of my parents.

And not only did I learn how to listen. I learned how to remember.

My dad was really good at remembering. Not just having a good memory, but the act of remembering. He knew how to tell a fantastic story. How to entertain everyone who was listening. And how to leave the entire room crying from laughing.

Some of my most favorite memories as a child are with my dad and my aunts. I mean, my dad and his brothers were pretty hilarious too. But my dad would get my aunts laughing so hard they would be crying. And my Aunt Sylvia has this fantastic laugh that is just ingrained into my memory. Like its kind of raspy and sounds like she can't breath for a while and then suddenly takes this leap to an unbelievably high pitch. And my Aunt Helen would just cry streaming tears because she couldn't stop laughing. And they would go on and on and on. Half the time I honestly didn't even know what they were talking about from my Child's Eye, but it was impossible not to laugh with them.
And then he would get together with his brothers. And they would tell the funniest stories about their tragic childhoods. And they would all remember it differently and fight over who had it the worst. Oh I miss those times.
And then my dad had this best friend, Don Wall. They had been bet friends since kindergarten and since my dad died at 63 that is a seriously long friendship. They grew up in Council Bluffs as like these replicas of James Dean in Rebel Without A Cause, only they actually had a cause, my dad's family life was terrible. So anyways, they were these rebellious like tough guys straight out of their decade and got into all kinds of trouble. And so when they got together they would just remember.



Over a beer. Or a game of Cribbage. Or in a restaurant. My dad just remembered.
And now I remember.

I love to remember.

So my dear friend Hilary and I remembered. We remembered the Chop Stick Tea we drank in Hong Kong by accident that I've blogged about before. We remembered stealing the coveted "Hall Cup" at campus and hiding it, while the SBA President desperately tried to find it without letting anyone on campus know that he had lost it. We remembered our Spring Break Trip to Galveston Texas so her sister Holly could see the ocean and we could camp. And by camp I mean, camp without tents or sleeping bags or a plan. Just a road map and a little Neon that ended up with a flat tire and housed us most nights, because who knew it would be freezing right off of the beach? We remembered jumping off of a moving train in Sri Lanka because suddenly she had a terrible feeling and just knew we had to get off of the train right then and there and it didn't matter if the train was moving or if the town we would be stranded in was foreign and totally creepy! We remembered my episode with Dysentary. And her allergic reaction to laundry soap.

And we remembered.

And we laughed.

And then we cried because we were laughing so much.

And then we laughed some more.

And then I remembered why she was a Bridesmaid. And why I love her so much. And why, even though we only see each other once every 9 months or so, why those times are so important to me.

And I got to be a grownup and a college kid at the same time and have one of those best times that you treasure forever. And now I can just look forward to seeing her again. In maybe even six months.