Born Again ... again.

First Conner calls and leaves me a message to call him. It was Conner so I had to call him back. We've shared momentous occasions together in St. Martin, Islandmorada, New Orleans, Fort Lauderdale and here on Tybee Island. We actually remember some of them. His wife Hania is our historian. She reminds us of the things we did. "Melliott," he said answering the phone, melding my name together as a group of crazy Canadians known as the Koster's do. "What do you want?" I fired with love and admiration. "I have no idea why I called," he explained Sitting on the Beloved Back deck on a hot summer night with my feet propped on the railing with a glass of wine, I gave him time. You always have to give Conner time ... he doesn't walk ... he strolls. "Oh yeah," he finally says, "what time are we meeting?" So I gave him the details before saying, "You didn't tell me it was going to be freaking cold you bastard." Sarah had checked the weather for Roche Harbor in the San Juan Islands ... north of Seattle! The high is going to be in the low 60s and the lows in 40s! I am going to freeze. I hate cold with everything in me and let Conner know it. "Ah, it'll be fine," Conner said. "Wear something under your robe." So we're getting ready to head to the West Coast to hook up with best friends who've lived with me through hell and back. It is a joyous occasion as their son Ryan is marrying the beautiful Abby. They've lost their minds and asked me to perform the ceremony. It'll be fun though. I actually like Seattle, Portland, Stevenson ... a lot. I've been there many times ... though never north of there. Conner hangs up on me, apparently finished with our conversation. Sarah's inside talking to the girls who are in New York. Dedra and her son J.R. had left after a feast of steaks on the deck. Winston, the little gay dog, lay next to Sarah while Goddess was laying beside me. God had hung the stars brilliantly in a pitch black sky. The sound of waves crashing were in the distance. The pungent aromas of the Marsh hung in the air. Birds sang goodnight lullabies to one another. I sat thinking. Friends come and go ... and sometimes they come back. Most times they don't. I'd spoken with an old friend earlier, someone that I haven't spoken with in a few years. Immediately, she wanted me to be who I was back then. So I listened and tried to conjure up the things that I used to do, but ... that's not who I am anymore. I am being born again ... again. Goddess follows me inside and I make Winston, the little gay dog, move so that I can sit sit beside Sarah. Locking arms, we don't say much. We just are And what we are is incredibly blessed to be together, where we are, with the people we're with and a whole life unfolding in front of us