My friend Christine just moved into a new condo, and for her housewarming she invited the people who have known her the longest: family, old friends, and a handful of us who once worked with her in a newsroom.

This condo is Christine’s fresh start. The last few years were hard on her, and she picked herself up and built a good life on her own terms. I’m proud of her. She’s an inspiration to me.

I left that job when my daughter was born, about twenty years ago. A few of the people in that room I still see now and then. Some I hadn’t seen since.

There was no warming up. It was easy right away, the way it is with family, as if we had never been apart.

I think that’s because we grew up together. We were young in that job, and we went through a lot side by side. Now we’re in different places and different stages of life. None of that came into the room.

What surprised me was how close I felt to people I barely knew back then. We had shared a newsroom and not much more. That night we talked like old friends. Maybe the years you spend in the same place count for something, even if you didn’t spend them talking.

At one point we all lined up on Christine’s staircase for a picture, one or two of us per step, leaning on the banister.

Later someone held a phone out for a selfie and nobody stood still. It came out blurry, half of us mid-laugh.

From a pedestal in the corner, a pumpkin with a carved old man’s face watched the whole thing.

I came home grateful. Every person in that room has been through something hard, and every one of them came through it strong. I admire them for that. Being around them reminds me I can be strong too, and that there’s a good life still ahead of me.

I’m glad that after all this time, there’s still a room where we fit.

Who are the people who knew you before? When did you last see them?