>Today I spent the day in my old hometown. Initially, I was just supposed to visit an old friend, but ended up having lunch at my grandparents’ house.

It was funny because I’d never been to my friend’s house before and wasn’t even sure I had the right place when I got there. When no one answered and I couldn’t hear anyone inside, a myriad of scenarios ran through my brain. Of course, the first few were irrational. “It seems really quiet in there. Maybe she’s hiding in the house and doesn’t want to see me. Am I at the right house? Maybe she mixed up the house numbers in the email and I’m annoying some stranger with a shotgun and an itchy trigger finger.”

Then my ego-centric “she hates me like everyone else” thoughts moved into, “I hope nothing bad happened! What if she’s unconscious in there and alone?!?”

Then rationality settled in. I left a note (because I didn’t have her phone number) and decided to pay a visit to my grandparents house on the other side of town.

I was ready to settle into their cozy living room for an afternoon of football and was half way through a glass of box wine when my friend called apologizing for her “mommy brain” forgetfulness. She was sincere and I was glad that I hadn’t let my psycho “everyone hates me” thoughts take over and put me in a bad mood.

I made a good choice by not wasting the opportunity for a visit. Her house was a profusion of Matchbox cars and Caillou, capped off by a crackling fireplace. It felt happy. Never did we have an awkward moment of silence, there was so much to catch up on. Over 15 years had passed, but we comfortably settled back into our friendship. I could have stayed there all night chatting and laughing.