This post may contain affiliate links. Please see my Disclosure statement for more details.
I don’t get many text messages. I am one of those Old Geezers without a Text Messaging Plan, and so I still have to pay to get and send texts. I do, every once in awhile, but my phone isn’t constantly buzzing with them like many others my age.
But yesterday morning, I got this from my very oldest friend: “The church on TV is singing And They’ll Know We Are Christians. Made me think of you and smile. Love you and miss you.”
I won’t explain the inside joke, but it made me grin from ear to ear. And think.
A genuine “I miss you” is language of the soul, words that mean more to me than most.
Being separated from my husband right now, some days all we have is “I miss you.” Sometimes I mean it more than other times (be honest now, really). But I do. I miss his curly head, his hugs, and how funny Libbie thinks he is.
“I love you” can be muttered, unfelt as we say good-bye and go on to attend to the next thing in life (for me, a crawling rascal; for him, a baseball game or papers to look over).
Driving home from Chattanooga after signing the lease for our house there, I started thinking about how much I will miss my friends in Nashville. It took me a long time before I felt that I had true friends here. Those friends to whom you can bare your soul do not come quickly or easily.
I will miss you, dear friends. More than anything else in this crazy city we’ve called home for five years.