Sunday, March 7, 2010
Face Book and Bitter Sweetness
When you get to be my age you find yourself skating more and more on your memories.
When the sun starts to set, your bright spots come in the form of old friends. Remembrances of wishes wished on a star.
A name. A place mentioned on a TV show. A song. All can trigger something obscure that immediately takes us back to a happier, livelier time.
The past few months I have been doing what a lot of us do on Face book. Looking up people we have memories of. Good memories. And when you get to be my age, those memories can be bitter sweet.
Tonight I called a guy from my past, we'll call Mike (cause that's his name). I had a crush on Mike in the 10th grade. He was a year ahead of me. And that in itself made him even more attractive to me. Because I was way ahead of myself age wise in school.
Mike was really something to me because he was sweet, was a fox, had long hair and played guitar. He also had some friends that rode around in a van and that was one of the coolest things you could do in 1973.
Mike and I never "hooked up", instead we did something a lot better. We became good friends. He is my brother.
When I talked to him tonight, he sounded the same as he did all those years ago.
We were actually friends beyond high school. He lived around the corner from me, in the same building but a separate entrance, when Sarah was a babe. He also lived a block down the same street from us when Donovan was a little guy. He became friends with my kids and he and I remained good friends when his girlfriend entered the picture. I have not talked with him in 20 years.
I loved him then and I still love him now. I hope with all my heart he will come and visit Larry and I. And bring his brother who I also came to know and love.
I also found another friend who I never got to speak with since 20 years ago, she passed away a few years back. I found her youngest daughter on facebook. The daughter has a picture of my old friend on her page, she looks sweet. But her eyes are hollow, due to alcoholism. You see, her older daughter, the one my Sarah grew up with, was killed in a go cart accident back in the late 90's and it drove my friend deeper into the bottle that was already pulling her in. The last time I saw her, I was leary of keeping contact with her. And I let our friendship fall by the wayside. I wish I could have said goodbye one last time. And been there for her when she lost her daughter.
Two different friends. Two different scenarios. One me. Back then we thought we would never get old. the world was our oyster. Every day a given.
I have learned that we are all different but we are all the same.
We grow up thinking we will be the same as we are in that moment. But life has a way of creeping in and taking over. We do not have control. Things happen, life goes on. We stay in touch, we lose touch. But all in all, we stay connected in our memories.