The chronicle of a lonely do-gooder family doctor who survived.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Here's to you, Tony



Neither of us ever discuss it, with each other, or with others. It seems so improbable to me that there's really nothing to say about it.

20 years ago I met this Australian foreign exchange student at Berkeley. We had an instant connection, an affinity that seemed like we were destined to play a major role in each others lives. We even shared a birthday. We spent the winter after we'd met driving across the US together.

Over the years, despite being in the pre-internet era, we stayed in touch, writing letters, sending care packages, the occasional phone call. He even came back to the states for a visit.

Flash forward 10 years. I move thousands of miles for school and residency and eventually end up in Seattle. Tony, living in Paris, meets a wonderful American woman, they fall in love and decided to get married and move to her home town: that's right, Seattle. Our wives become best of friends and now, 20 years later, we both have sons that were born three months apart.

As I tap this blog entry out on my iPhone, he and Jen are out together at a party for a much needed break and I am babysitting in their home, their infant son peacefully asleep on my chest.

Life is truly wonderful and magic.

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