Friendship

The doorbell rang.

Rick answered. I heard, "Our priest is here."

RB2, walked in. He is not a real priest, but he performed the role at our commitment ceremony Aug. 10, 2013.

What a treat. We do not see each other often enough because we are often not in the same country at the same time.

Our friendship goes back to 1990 when we both went to work for a Swiss company. It was a freak thing that he bought a copier in Holland where he lived and tested it with a want ad. He answered it and got the job.

I'd desperately been looking for work from Boston, saw the same ad, answered it and was working there a couple of months later.

We shared the company apartment and developed a friendship over backgammon, food shopping trips, spur-of-the moment explorations in France, trips to my cousins in Germany where he was working on his degree nearby, endless conversations, concerts, etc.

He would come home some late Fridays and ask, "Do you want to go to Argelès?" I would stumble out of bed, wake my two Japanese chins and sleep the seven-hour drive. We would spend Saturday there then explore our way home on Sunday.

He bought a house in ASM, fell in love with the girl next door and married her. I was his witness.

When he was working in Geneva but living in Nice, he spent the work week with me. It led to fondues and meringues at the Café de Soleil, more music and endless conversations.

Thus, when it was my turn to commit to the love of my life and until we sorted out the problems of an international marriage, it was only natural that RB2 help us make our vows before 40+ friends from seven countries.

We caught up on the news over tea. He is heading back to Switzerland. We'll be there as well but in a different part.

Someone once said he was my wantabe brother. That works. I would say he has enriched my life with his honesty, sharing and friendship.

And every knock on the door from him is a gift.