Reuniting and it feels so good

I drove over the mountain pass yesterday.  I very rarely leave the Puget Sound and venture into the drier half of our state.  In fact, I’ve visited Eastern Washington only a handful of times in my whole life.   And I grew up in Western Washington, mere hours from Eastern Washington.  Anyway, why would I venture three hours from my home?  Why, to visit my friends Ann and Shelly, the girls I hung out with in high school.

The Memory Keeper’s Daughter divx

I last saw Shelly about 15 years ago.  I saw Ann ten years ago.

We met at Shelly’s house in Yakima in the early afternoon.  We stopped talking long enough to drive to a Mexican restaurant, where we resumed our conversation.  Then we drove back to her house where we chatted until 1:00 a.m.

By 9:30 a.m., we were talking again while eating breakfast, then continuing our discussion as we ate lunch at Applebee’s and shopped.  (Clearance racks, of course.  I bought a pair of black linen pants for $15.  They were originally priced $129.)  We talked our way through each store until I noticed it was already 4:00 p.m., time to think about going home.

I drove fast, singing along to Chicago’s Greatest Hits some of the time.

Three hours later, back home, I was shocked at the amount of laundry piled up.  I can’t stop yawning now.

I rarely see people who knew me when I was growing up, so it was delightful to share stories without having to explain the whole background.  These women knew me when I was thirteen years old, when I was fourteen, when I was seventeen and wondering what to do with my life.  Picking up the decades-old conversation where we left off was so satisfying.  The decades of near silence were nothing more than a comma in the paragraph of our lives.  I love that we are all happily married, doing well despite the normal human struggles everyone has.  We laughed a lot, nodded a lot, understood deeply.
I told them we’ll have to do it again in fifteen years.  Or maybe sooner.  (We will be almost 60 then, which blows my mind.)

Meanwhile, laundry beckons.

9 thoughts on “Reuniting and it feels so good

  1. I was at a local function as a vendor, for a group of nurses, last night. Imagine my total shock and awe when a woman my age came over and asked if I were “Barbara” – I didn’t think I’d ever seen her before. Come to find out, she was my best friend until I was 8 years old! Then I moved away – that was nearly 50 years ago! She and her little sister were my constant companions when I was little.

    I was so sorry my mother is not still alive so I could tell her that I’d seen Anne again after all these years. No one else in my family is old enough to have known her. Like you, there are very few people who remember me as a child, and I feel like I lose a part of myself each time another one slips away. So it’s a double treasure when one comes back into your life again!


  2. I too love the way you can pick up a conversation with old girlfriends even if you haven’t seen them for a decade or more. Men can’t do that. Only us girls.


  3. I loved this story of “driving over the pass to visit old friends”. As an Army brat, I seldom run into friends from my past – but sometimes it happens. I also love how (like with cousins)it does seem like very little time has elapsed and it really is that you can just pick up conversation with these people – because they do seem to know you. It’s relationships where there is very little pretense – most of the time – and you are able to just get right to the “good” stuff. What a pleasant trip for you – I’m jealous.


  4. Great post…made me miss my best friend. We talk often by phone or e-mail but its never the same as being able to hug her neck and spend the day chatting face to face. Glad you had a nice time.


  5. I love your description of decades of near silence as just a comma in the paragraph of our lives. I so enjoy my the newer friendships in my life. They are irreplaceable. But I am really looking forward to reconnecting next year with some of those from the past. We always pick right back up where we left off, years and years ago.


You know you want to comment here:

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s