Three Boys from Miami

by John on September 4, 2016

I had a chance to chat with some old friends a few weeks ago. We managed to all get on a quick skype-type call to say hello, make fun of each other, and commiserate on how busy our lives have become.

Seems I have this conversation a lot these days.

We all grew up together, suffering through parochial school and that awkward transition to public high school. Even with our shared suffering, we were an unlikely bunch of friends. One was the fastest runner in elementary school, one a serial entrepreneur, and me, well I was honing my diplomacy skills by trying to be involved with student government and other extracurricular activities.

We lost touch for a couple of years, each of us going to different colleges and countries. Trying as young men do to find themselves in a time when we didn’t catalog every crazy thing we did on the internet. Trying to make a mark, create a legacy, make a difference in the world. Tall order for three boys from Miami. Then again, we always relished a challenge.

That day though, we spoke of our kids, our careers, our challenges as fathers, but we haven’t changed much. We’re still the same group of over-active, hyper boys, who like to compete. However today, we are competing against time. Something we all know a bit too well.

One friend is still mourning the recent loss of his mother. It’s still raw and hurts and no amount of words on a call, or pixels on a screen can convey how much we share in his grief and pain.

Another by nature of his work, has put himself in harm’s way more than anyone we know. Again, words can’t adequately express our sense of worry. We all just keep on keeping on, looking at the days pass on the calendar, cherishing our families and raising our kids. Hoping against hope that they will have it better than we ever did…

We’re now all in different parts of the world, but thankfully still in touch. Celebrating our successes and propping each other up in the difficult times. That brings me a bit of comfort, knowing that through the years, we’re still there for each other.

So on this random Sunday, separated by 7 different time zones and a vast ocean, know that I love you both. I still worry, and still cheer and toast our successes.

We may have grey hair (or no hair) and our waistlines may be a bit bigger, but our friendship endures.

Not bad for three rambunctious boys from Miami. Not bad at all.

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