As I scan the bustling theater lobby, I’m on the lookout for my childhood best friend, Mia. The movie is about to begin, and a wave of nostalgia washes over me as I spot her. We both wave enthusiastically and rush to embrace each other. “Are you grabbing popcorn?” I ask right off the bat.
“Nope,” she replies with a mischievous grin. “I brought my own candy.” I chuckle and confess, “Me too!” It hits me again—how incredible it is that we’re sharing this moment.
I find myself transported back to the summer of my tenth year. Our escapades included cheap movies and sneaking in candy, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. We used to go swimming every week, feasting on peanut butter sandwiches, juicy watermelon, and root beer. We’d stay at the pool until our fingers were pruney and our skin turned pink. Yet here we are, no longer kids; we’re now both in our late thirties. Surprisingly, fate has brought us to the same city this summer, a whole 1,400 miles from our hometown, and we’re reveling in our time together.
Three decades ago, we lived just a few houses apart in a quaint Southern town. In those elementary school days, we rode bikes, swapped sleepover turns, and shared laughter on the school bus. But as junior high approached, her family moved, and by the end of high school, we had drifted apart. Although I still hugged her every time we met, we lost touch after graduation. Back then, our mothers were our main source of updates; her mom attended my wedding shower and excitedly shared that Mia was married and had moved to Colorado. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy—she had escaped our little town first.
Fast forward a few years, my husband and I made a similar leap. We set our sights on Denver, liquidated our assets, and packed up our kids’ cherished toys, making the move across the country. It was a year later when I received a Facebook message from Mia. “We’re relocating to Denver soon!” she wrote. “Want to meet for coffee?”
Now, just six months later, we’re enjoying summer activities reminiscent of our youth, albeit as grown-ups and parents. Our kids are getting to know each other, and I have the joy of telling Mia’s daughter, “Your mom did the same things when she was your age!” It’s wonderful to reconnect with the adult versions of ourselves. I find that I admire the grown-up Mia just as much as I did the girl I knew.
However, like all good things, this summer will eventually come to an end. While Denver is my home now, it may not be hers for long. By this time next year, she could be embarking on a new adventure in another city. This transient nature of our reunion makes every moment together that much sweeter. I feel grateful to experience something many only dream of—reliving that cherished summer of my youth with my childhood best friend.
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Summary
This article reflects on the joy of reconnecting with a childhood best friend, Mia, as they reminisce about their shared summer experiences from when they were 10 years old. Despite the years that have passed and the changes in their lives, they find joy in rediscovering their friendship and creating new memories together as grown-ups in a new city.