Funerals Bring back Old Friends

It seems that I have a habit of reviving old friendships at funerals.
Several months ago, the mom of my good friend from high school died.
I hadn't seen this friend since my wedding almost 12 years ago. We have renewed our friendship and have gotten together often. We picked up where we left off and have lots of fun together.
Today I went to the funeral of the dad of my best childhood friend.
We met in second grade and nobody could separate us until high school. We chose different paths then, and went our separate ways. We didn't go to the same elementary school but only lived a block away from each other. We did go to the same high school together though. When school was in session, we would go to our different schools, get out at 3, I would be at her house by 3:15, I would leave for supper at 5 and be back at her house by 5:30 until 8. In summer if I wasn't sleeping over at her house, which I did often, I was at her house early morning and leave at 10:00 p.m. We weren't always at her house, but we were always together. It was a great childhood.
The last time I saw her was at her mom's funeral 20 years ago. But I never stopped thinking about her. As my girls were (are) growing up I tell them stories about the things my friend and I have done. Good grief, not everything though. If I see my kids jumping off the garage roof, or smoking behind the garage, there will be trouble. I think we're safe in the stealing alcohol department. We have no alcohol in the house.
Even though I was sad that my friends dad has died, I was excited to see her again. I walked in, looked around, saw her sister, then looked the other way and spotted her. I think. She looked at me, I looked at her then we both got huge smiles and ended up in a giant hug. Then her sister comes up and stares at me, my old friend says who I am and she screams. A good, happy to see you scream, not a what the heck happened to you scream. I think.
My friend and I talked about 30 minutes and caught up on a little bit of our lives. I cannot believe she is a grandma! No way can I picture me as a grandma. Phone numbers and e-mails and promises to use them were exchanged and I left.
It was so good to see her again, and I hope we can get together soon. I want to help her clean out her dads house. I can't believe he still lived in the house that I was often at, for so many years. I want to sleep out on the screen porch or in the psychedelic canvas tent on a hot summer night. I want to get all creeped out in their cool but scary basement. I want a glass of water from their bathroom sink. It was way better than the kitchen water, but don't ask me why. I want to pick out a game to play from the awesome upstairs closet that connected two bedrooms. That closet was big enough to be a bedroom. Yes we tried to make it into one. And yes, they had every cool game there was in the 70's. Heck, I might even try to jump off the garage again. I'll pass on the smoking in the small stuffy attic or out the front bedroom window, but I will crawl out the back bedroom window and tan on the roof.
I think it's true that funerals are for the living, because honestly, what can the deceased do about it? My friends dads funeral hopefully will bring two old friends back together again, just like it did at my other friends moms funeral.