I had the pleasure of reconnecting with my friend Mary today. We sang together in pubs and coffee houses during college during the 70s. She was my suite mate- my first encounter after my father kissed me goodbye and left me standing alone in a barren dorm room. While her mother sprayed everything in sight with Lysol, she introduced herself. She had a warm smile and sparkling blue eyes. She played guitar and she sang like an angel. My harmonies blended with her melodies and our friendship was sealed forever.
Somehow, we lost touch after graduation. Husbands, kids, jobs, dogs… the excuses were louder than the bidding to keep the friendship alive. Our paths briefly crossed once and then again diverged. Another eight years passed and suddenly, there she was, a face on a website. The same sparkling eyes. The same warm smile.
Emails ensued and the reunion planned. I was terrified. My voice has lost its elasticity, and my singing is now confined to the privacy of my car. My once willowy frame now bulges from the ravages of pregnancy, childbirth, and too many cookies. I have few credentials to boast- a salaried job, a sunny apartment, a blue sedan that bears the scars of teenagers learning to drive, a broken marriage.
But then, there she was, striding down the hall to my open door. With one embrace, thirty years disappeared and we were eighteen again. We spent a delightful day, not talking about what we do, but sharing who we are.
Friends don’t read your resume. They don’t notice your gray hair. They don’t care if the carpet is stained or the back seat of the car is covered with dog hairs. Friends cup your chin when the water is rising over your head. They hold you tight when the storms of life blow so hard you think you cannot stay on your feet a moment longer. They bring salve for your wounds, a blanket for the cold and a candle to carry you through until dawn. They encourage you to forge forward, to redefine your life, to remember the things that are good.
Welcome back, Mare. I’ve missed you.
Lizza
/ November 5, 2008Beautiful, beautiful words.
I miss you, Momma 🙂
LikeLike
Mare
/ November 5, 2008Wonderful writing, G. You have such a gift. It is so good to be back. I have missed you too, my friend.
LikeLike
Carly
/ November 6, 2008Thank you so much for sharing. I’ll check back often to see the other side of Momma-G!
LikeLike
MJ
/ November 6, 2008You always did have a way with words… glad to see you returning to an original talent!
LikeLike
MOM
/ November 6, 2008What a thrill to find Mary! I am so happy for you. You will have to fill me in the next time I see you.
You have not lost your talent for writing, my dear. keep at it. I truly enjoyed reading it.
I love you sooooooooooo much.
LikeLike
Scott
/ November 6, 2008Beautiful words, even more beautiful thoughts. I’ve always said I have many acquaintances but only a few friends. Fortunately, for me, you are among the friends.
I’ll cup my hands for you anytime you need it. I know you’ll always do the same for me.
LikeLike
Ben
/ November 6, 2008Such wisdom only comes with…
age.
hehe! Love you Garrie!
LikeLike
Robin
/ November 9, 2008you may not sing like an angel anymore, but, the music in your heart comes out lovely and strong. keep writing, you have a gift………….R
LikeLike
Tom Faulkner
/ February 26, 2009An original poem to an old friend
FOCUS…
on making…
seconds, minutes, hours & days,
pass grandly
and letting…
anger, rage & the demon that bays,
thru blandly.
Gare, you just inspired me to share… Thanx
LikeLike
Peg Griswold
/ March 31, 2009What a wonderful writer you are. I hope you choose to write about reuniting with John and the lunch you had together. When I got home and asked him about it, he just beamed! And he does not easily beam, I assure you!!!
LikeLike