When I was seven years old, my best friend was Johnny Giles. We lived in Orillia, and he lived across the street. We did everything together. We rode our bikes, ran outside until the streetlights came on, chased around with balls and bats, pretended we were Batman and Robin (that was a thing then), and enjoyed going to the corner store every day. We were in the same grade, same class.

And we were probably the two skinniest kids in the class.

When we moved to Hamilton from Orillia at age 9 we lost contact and our friendship was just a memory.

Around 2013 or 2014, I cannot remember the specific time, I was involved in a learning opportunity for churches and ministries. I was delighted to attend as one of a small group of Salvation Army officers. It was a tw day event, and if I remember correctly, there were probably 300 to 400 attendees. It was a good experience.

On the second day, a light lunch was being served, and we were picking it up and finding a table to sit at, nothing fancy, but it allowed for connections and meeting new people. I sat down at the table with my plate, and as I settled in, I looked across the table at the man sitting there, about my age, I assumed from my observation. I glanced down at his name tag. John Giles.

“John Giles!” I exclaimed, trying not to sound like I was yelling. My next question, “did you grow up in Orillia?”

I was hoping that this might be the friend with whom I had so many shared memories!

“No, I grew up in Barrie, but I think I know who you are talking about. I know him.”

He knew that John’s mother had died of cancer and that he still lived in Orillia.

I’ve never been able to track him down, though I’ve seen some obituary posts from Orillia of Giles family members, even one of a man who was around my Dad’s age who died last year. Maybe one day I will reconnect. I hope so.

Here’s my point: I have a memory of a friend who meant something to me that I have lost touch with. But his impact on my life is not diminished; in fact, that memory seems to rise once in a while and I think of him.

That’s what happens when we let people invest in us, and we in them. We build memories together, and the value of those relationships lives within us. One day, maybe you will reconnect, but the friendship still has value even if you don’t.