You can’t plant an old tree. Trees earn their designation as “old” by growing in place over decades, accumulating rings of life and surviving unpredictable cycles of drought, flood, wind, freezing temperatures and heat.

Old trees are irreplaceable. You can plant a new tree of the exact same species and variety, but it will never be the same as the old tree. Trees take on unique shapes and characteristics as they mature in response to environmental factors that are never exactly the same year over year.

If trees could talk, they would be great storytellers. Historians. As silent spectators to the lives lived under their branches and in their vicinity, they overhear countless conversations and observe children, adults, families, neighbors and strangers live out their lives over time.

We have a mix of old and newish trees that surround our house, but I tend to take the older trees for granted. Even though their towering shapes define the contours of our property and I can’t imagine our yard without them, they have become like scenery; not something that needs my attention.

I figure if they’ve survived this long, they don’t need any help from me, unlike the newer flowers, vegetables and other plantings I spend so much time watering, fertilizing and pruning every year.

A dear high school friend paid me a surprise visit this past week. Nancy and I hadn’t seen each other in nearly 30 years and during that time, we communicated only infrequently via Facebook or random phone calls every few years.

A lot of life has happened over the decades since we last caught up. After graduating from Red Bank Catholic High School in New Jersey, we attended colleges in different states and went on to live very different lives in different parts of the country.

I was pretty nervous before she arrived, but from the moment she stepped out of her car, the years evaporated and we immediately returned to our high school selves. We talked nonstop for hours – and could have continued for days, if she didn’t need to get back to New Jersey for a family commitment.

As we reminisced about our many (mis)adventures together, I heard Nancy describing a teenage girl I only vaguely recognized as myself. I listened as she recounted details about people and events I had all but forgotten. Interactions she had with my mother and father revealed to me a beautiful side of their personalities I never fully appreciated. Her perspective on our shared past provided insights that helped me reconcile pain and misunderstandings I have carried forward into my present. It was cathartic.

Nancy and I are officially old trees now. Proud mothers and grandmothers, our lives today are radically different from the emotional roller coaster we rode (without seatbelts) in high school. But our memories of those fun and fraught years remain suspended in time. They are permanent rings on our trunks, marking one of many chapters in our lives.

As I waved goodbye and watched her cute little sports car head back to New Jersey, a million thoughts and emotions swirled inside my head and my heart. All derivatives of a deep thankfulness for Nancy, for her generous and loving heart, for our friendship, and for the chance to go back in time together and laugh and cry and remember.

Every person has a story, but my visit with Nancy taught me that we are not the sole keepers of our personal narratives. We only know one side of it. The rest of the story is kept by the various people we have shared our lives with: our parents, siblings, relatives, friends, teachers, co-workers; even strangers. Taken together, their viewpoints provide a fuller (and less subjective) version of who we are.

You can’t plant old trees – and you can’t make old friends.

Old friends are irreplaceable. Old friends are the co-authors and editors of our personal histories. We can’t really understand who we are without them.

*The title of this post is an homage to the late Paul Harvey, whose very popular radio segment, “The Rest of the Story” shared obscure, true stories about well-known people and events.

“Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart,

and the pleasantness of a friend springs from their heartfelt advice.”

Proverbs 27:9