Old Friends...

You are in the 20 to 40 year old range, raising children, working, buying a home, a car, dealing with the myriad pressures of family and work life. Do you stay in touch with your friends? If you got a call from an old buddy needing to talk or needing help with moving a piece of furniture, would you be there?

I wish I had had the opportunity to stay in touch with more of my friends, but being a military brat did not allow for a lot of connection before the age of PCs and cell phones. Letter writing was all I had then since phone calls were too expensive. And if my friend’s dads were transferred before my letter reached them, I lost touch. One very special friend and I have managed to stay in touch for over 50 years even though for a decade or so we lost contact while we were getting married, setting up our homes, and nourishing our careers. We reestablished communication back in the 90s when my husband and I took a trip to Washington DC and I knew from my mom who had heard from her mom that she lived somewhere in the area. Since then she and I have had some great conversations by email, cell phone, and in person.

I did not know when she found out she had breast cancer so I could not be there for her. When I discovered I had breast cancer, I sent her an email asking about all the steps I should be aware of and the next day she was on the phone welcoming me to a club neither of us had wanted to join. I learned from her not to be afraid because breast cancer was no longer a death sentence. She was there for me by long distance and by email. I thank my dearest friend for her support and caring. We are still in touch even though we both still work and are still busy. But if she called me tomorrow, I’d be there….

There is always a song or a film that illustrates what I’m thinking and feeling and I dedicate the following Simon and Garfunkle song to my friend Mary.

Words & music by paul simon

Old friends,
Old friends
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends.
A newspaper blown though the grass
Falls on the round toes
Of the high shoes
Of the old friends.

Old friends,
Winter companions,
The old men
Lost in their overcoats,
Waiting for the sunset.
The sounds of the city,
Sifting through trees,
Settle like dust
On the shoulders
Of the old friends.

Can you imagine us
Years from today,
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange
To be seventy.
Old friends,
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fears