Change is a good thing.
Moving forward, looking ahead, planning for the future, all that good stuff.
As someone who can quickly become bored with the status quo (I need a ‘What’s Next?’ T-shirt), change can always provide useful information.
But sometimes, isn’t it just nice when time stands still? Or at least seems to anyway.
I got to hop in a time machine for a brief period recently, and I still haven’t wiped the smile off my face.
My childhood friend of more than four decades now currently lives in a different country.
We talk all the time, especially during football or hockey seasons, but don’t see each other nearly as much as in the past.
Of course, with certain folks in your life, you can not see them for years on end and as soon as you’re in their presence, it’s like picking up a conversation you were having 30 seconds ago.
You quickly fall into the same old mannerisms and inflections, laugh at the old tales... always good fun.
So recently, he mentioned he was coming home (our childhood city will always be home, no matter where we are) and bringing his son to his parents’ house.
That’s where the time machine aspect comes in.
Over the years, my buddy and I have of course changed from the meatheads we once were.
Responsibility, parenting, wrinkles, grey hair. The usual.
But one thing that never changes is the feeling I get when I go to his parents’ house.
It’s not the one I remember as a kid, they’ve long since moved into an easier-to-maintain townhome.
But the feeling is exactly the same.
From the moment I sat down, Mrs. Tillberg (I still call all my friends’ parents Mr. and Mrs., I know that’s not done as much today) shifted into Mom mode, asking me if I needed anything to eat, being concerned about my health and so on.
It was awesome.
It really is like being perpetually 12. All the photos on the wall, the talk of how things used to be. I even put in a request for Mr. Tillberg to yell (always with a twinkle in his eye because it was for my benefit) at my buddy for not performing some random chore to exacting specifications.
And as I was leaving, I got one of my favourite things (pictured), a Mrs. Tillberg care package.
Understanding the notion of change (that being my ability to not process food like I once did), I only devoured 90 per cent of it on the drive home.
I’ll always wonder ‘what’s next?’ but it sure was great to think about ‘what’s always been,’ even for a moment.
PQB News/VI Free Daily editor Philip Wolf welcomes your questions, comments and story ideas. He can be reached at 250-905-0029 or via email at philip.wolf@blackpress.ca.