“I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.” ~ Hafiz
I had a thrill this evening when my old friend, cousin, and classmate Larry Scott Evans II appeared. He’d left Houston yesterday morning, driving straight through to West Liberty to pay his respects to our beloved art teacher Mr. Adams who was laid to rest this afternoon. On his way back to Texas tonight, (yes, he turned right around and headed back) Larry stopped in Lexington to spend some long overdue time with me and my folks. It’s easily been 24 years or longer since we last saw one another in person, though we have been pretty darn good about keeping in touch along the way. As Larry and I talked this evening, about everything from the success of his two daughters to government conundrums, the reality sank in that we’ve been friends for more than 50 years. Our families were intertwined in ways families are in small towns. My mom and his dad were social workers in the same office. We grew up not far from one another up highway 191. We went through school together from the first grade to graduation. I have vivid memories of sitting in front of Larry in the second (or third) grade as he drew really quite fantastic dinosaurs. He knew the name of every creature. He knew their specific mannerisms, diets, and precisely how they looked. His love of the prehistoric beasts was just the beginning of a life of learning and exploration. He has never lost those passions. When I looked at him today I saw the same boy who drew those dinosaurs and I felt extremely blessed to be with him after all these years, all these miles apart, all these experiences we’ve lived through. I’m so sorry he came here for a funeral, but I will never be sorry that it brought us together once more, if only for a few hours. Grateful would be an understatement. Plus, it was super sweet to hear mom call him “Scotty.” I bet he hasn’t heard that in decades.