“Is it okay if my two friends come to the basketball game with us?”
My consent to that question just before my second date with my husband-then-boyfriend marked the beginning of my many outings with “Dave, Dave, and Charlie.” Thankfully, we never did get kicked out of a Bridgeman’s, and I survived several viewings of Highlander.
Today, twenty-four years later, we sat around a table after the funeral for Charlie’s mom. What I failed to appreciate during those early years, I cherish now. Our families have encouraged one another through many joys and sorrows. We are more than friends. We are truly family.