A close friend recently visited me for the first time since I was Maid of Honor at her wedding at the tender age of 19. No, I haven't lived in this home during all the years that have intervened. I moved to my little slice of paradise to resume oversight of my mother's care at the end of 2000 after a brief stint in NYC. Less than two years later, Mom passed away. As we had with Dad, my sister and I held a memorial service for Mom in our hometown. I hadn't seen Karen in decades, and when she entered the room, the years took flight.
Karen and I met in second grade when her small country school merged with the township school system. Her diminuitive stature, dark hair, and large brown eyes immediately sent many boys' hearts aflutter. Our friendship blossomed immediately, although we resembled Mutt and Jeff when it came to height. At the age of four, people thought I was seven or eight. By the time I reached seventh grade, I had gained full height at 5'71/4". Karen eventually made it to 5"4", but I still felt like a giant in comparison.
We came of age after rock and roll had burst on the scene, and we both loved to dance and listen to hits of the day. Our mothers constantly asked us to turn down the music and take it easy on the floors as we practiced all of the popular dances: the stroll, the bop, the mashed potato, and later the twist. No secrets existed between us. We considered ourselves sisters of the heart. Every morning we'd call each other to check on what to wear to school. We actually used shoe polish on our tennis shoes to whiten them and then dealt with the remains on our feet at the end of the day. We stayed over at one another's houses frequently, giggling contstantly, until our mothers demanded we cease and desist. The quiet would last just minutes before we were laughing again.
I met all of Karen's boyfriends, but the stream of admirers stopped when she started dating her husband in the ninth grade. She sat next to him in band, and he had been waiting for her to grow up a bit before asking her out. Ron was two years ahead of her in school. Often, when she came to my house Ron did, too. He ignored our silliness and busied himself with my huge collection of comic books. When they married, Karen moved to the Air Force base where Ron was stationed, and I moved to a large city. Thus, our long separation began.
Fast forward to 2002 at the funeral home. Karen and I sat and talked, trying to catch up on more than 35 years of out lives. When Mom's memorial service ended, Karen dropped a bomb that forever changed her life and prompted me to visit my hometown after a prolonged absence. In fact, I hadn't seen that tiny town in 25 years, since Dad's death.
Find out what Karen said tomorrow.
Saturday, 30 April 2011
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