A recent meeting in OKC with friends after more than a year apart were oh-so-welcome, and needed.

We took up right where we left off. Or sorta, with the COVID-19 pandemic in our discussions, still on our minds and conversations after we were seated and took off our masks.

That’s where I met with my closest newspaper buddies and bestees Gloria and Wayne Trotter.

We met in a place where we’d always celebrated birthdays, holidays and just-because days.

I needed that infusion of friendship and normalcy more than I thought.

We talked non-stop about family, friends, and newspapers, though the three of us are semi-retired.

Discussions about our two immunization shots, my bout with the Coronavirus, and our other health ailments took awhile. Then talks about the goings-on in national and state politics continued long after we finished our brunch of Eggs Benedict with extra hollandaise sauce.

Our waiter refilled our water glasses and coffee cups several times while we lingered over our togetherness, and the lunch crowds began to come in.

We put on our masks, said our goodbyes, exchanged honest-to-goodness hugs, and think I apologized for monopolizing the conversations, because usually my cat is the only one who listens to me.

By the time I got to my car my case of the feel-goods continued, and I remembered the days when it was the four of us before my husband died. Back then we’d planned to retire and help other small town newspapers publishers: we’d put out their newspaper so they could take a full vacation week.

When I got onto the Northwest Expressway my car automatically pulled into the Penn Square Mall. After all it had been more than a year since I’d shopped in The City. The parking lot was packed, but a larger size in jeans was on my mind, and stomach.

It was the Saturday after the spring break week, and the department store was teeming with shoppers. Suddenly it was hard to breathe through my mask. I decided it was my COPD, and stopped walking to catch my breath. It didn’t help all that much, I guess I was just anxious because of all those people. Then when it came to getting on the escalator I balked before I grabbed the handrail that hundreds of people had used that day, and headed for the fat girl department.

I found some $15 sale jeans, didn’t try them on, and found out they were low-rise when I put them on Saturday night. That was before I hitched up my jeans and went to dinner in Enid with friends.

I was a little uptight during my second restaurant outing with friends in more than a year, and talked way more than my two friends. So maybe some things never change. Not even in a pandemic.