I don’t know why but I never remained friends with my childhood friends. I was so close with them, and I still love them, Laura, Lori, Karin, Robin, and Jerry. They were true friends and friends that are in my heart forever. We have all reconnected (except Jerry; I don’t know where he is). I look forward to spending some time with the three still on the island. We all reconnected through Facebook.
I wrote this a couple of weeks after the wake and funeral of a childhood friend’s father. I cannot remember the year Laura and I became friends or when we stopped spending time together or talking. All I know is we spent a lot of time with each other. We played everything together. Barbies, house, store, library, king of the mountain, kickball, rode bikes, created dances, put on shows, etc. She was at my home often and I at hers. While I remember all the fun we used to have and the snapshots of memories that fire off in my brain, I only really remember these times well – we used to perform standing on my picnic table on my patio. We would practice our performances in Laura’s garage and put on shows there. One day we lay on my couch and hugged each other so tight with our eyes squeezed shut and our hearts beating fast, fearing the end of the world that was supposed to happen at 1:00 P.M. that day; we wanted to go together. I remember the different color phone wires that Laura’s dad gave us that I believe we used to make bracelets. And then there were the times’ Laura’s sister came tagging along. I remember Laura trying to get to my house quickly, and then there would be her sister running down the street after her. Sometimes Laura made it inside my house. Then we would hear a boom boom boom at the door accompanied by “Laura, let me in, mommy said I can come” It wasn’t awful; it was just that Laura and I liked to have our own time to play, just us, and not have to share that with her little sister. But regardless, we always had fun. I will never forget her french provincial canopy white bedroom set. It was like a princess’s room. A big contrast to my room as I had all hand-me-down furniture. Not that I minded; I just dreamed of having a room like Lauras. I did get it when I was 15, but that is a story for another day. I also remember her very long hair, which I envied. But not when I saw her mother washing and combing it out. Ouch! Still, it was so beautiful, and I admired it so much.
I have many other memories but nothing where I remember the whole scenario. Memories fade, but one thing I know is that feelings remain forever. Feelings can fade, too, with little contact, but it doesn’t take much for them to be re-ignited. I learned that last week.
Laura and I reminisced about her dad. I shared my memories of him; a quiet, gentle, kind man. I remember he threw her the most fabulous parties. Pin the tail on the Donkey and other party games had the best prizes. Sitting side by side talking with Laura, all of a sudden, I was around eight years old again, or nine, or ten, or any of those ages I was when Laura was one of my best friends. I sat by her side, missing her from all those years ago. Feeling her grief. My father took his journey to Heaven only two months before. I sat there by her side … it was like 1968 being with my friend.
Laura was with me when I heard my mother died. That was in 1973. Poor Laura, I can’t even imagine witnessing the trauma of that event. Things changed for me after that tragic time. The joys of childhood seemed to have ended with misery taking its place. Now all these decades later, I was sitting next to my BFF, feeling her pain. Knowing her like there was never a time I didn’t know her. It felt like we were children again. Like time was suspended and nothing else ever existed.
At the funeral, I received communion and then went and took her face in my hands and kissed her cheek. That was neither my 62-year-old self nor my 8-year-old self, but an intermingling of both. I have been to many funerals before and have never done that. But that was Laura, my buddy, playmate, and wonderful friend. Even though we never see each other and barely talk to each other (except for two times 15 or so years ago). I was right back there as if no time had passed. It was Laura and Mary once again.
Leaving the church, I told her I wished we never grew apart. I wished we had remained close all those years ago; sadness flooded my heart.
The days of our friendship were about 49 years ago, but something happened last week. Those years seemed erased. We were the Mary and Laura from yesteryear. Yes, I went back in time two weeks ago, and it was bittersweet. Bitter because Laura was feeling the pangs of grief and mourning the loss of her father. I shared in her grief of a kind, gentle father that she loved so much, for the man who helped make childhood fun. My heart hurt, knowing her journey forward would be a painful road without him. A road I am only newly traversing myself. I grieved the loss of her father, I grieved the loss of my father, and I grieved for the missed years of friendship. The sweetness came because I got to be with my dear friend. Still special to me after all these years. I got to feel as if all those years in between were only a comma. Only a pause. I got to experience the love and closeness I felt during some of the most precious years of my life with someone who still lives so deeply in my heart. That was such a beautiful gift. If you are reading this, thank you, Laura, for your friendship so many years ago. I felt it all over again, and thank you for your friendship now. I love you.
Laura, In closing, I want to tell you that directly after the funeral, I went to Walgreens. In Walgreens, the song that was playing resonated in my heart. It was “Lean on Me” from back in our time. You always have someone to lean on. I am only a phone call, text, or car ride away. Remember, it may be a while until you hear his voice call your name, but you will hear it again when you see him in Heaven. That day, with much delight, he will be calling out your name!