Many years ago I was camping with a friend. While at the grill, he said, “time is the best spice.” I rolled my eyes a little at the cliché, but I realized later – while I was eating his food – that he’d said “thyme.” He was not wrong – his food was amazing.
Thyme might be the best spice, but there’s nothing like time for friendships. The way that layers of memories accumulate – funny stories get funnier, old jokes get sweeter, and I appreciate their presence more and more. Now, at fifty, I am so glad for people who knew me when I was twenty-five, so careless and so carefree, even if I didn’t know it at the time. I wouldn’t trade my life now, but I am so glad for the people who still keep the stories we shared then.