From the Top of Our Joyous Lungs

I have learned so much about living from my friend.

Her house is down the street from me. And when she sees me coming, she marshals her young children around her, counts to three, and they all bellow, “HI CAITIEEEEEEE!” at the top of their joyous lungs.

If she drives by me, her whole arm comes out the window or up through the sunroof and she waves it like she hasn’t seen me in years.

After we’ve gotten coffees or had a meal, she calls out, so big and loud and free, “I love you.” And there’s no expectant pause for me to reply. She says it, I’ve come to believe, for no other reason than she wants me to know.

This friend isn’t one to save it for the eulogy. She tells you now how much you mean to her.

And after I’m with her, I feel like anything in the world is possible. Because love is such an ennobling thing, isn’t it?

So what I’m learning from this friend of mine is to let my love be a little more known. And, on my boldest days, to even bellow it from the top of my joyous lungs.

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