The childhood friends:
Another K, a girl I found to be so interesting and cool, in the most relaxed sort of way when we were friends in high school, was a definite. I'd been facebook "friends" with her for nearly a year and had become a fan of her blog which I find to be the kind of honest to which I aspire. Through her writing, I felt like I knew more than I should about her, as we hadn't really been in touch since high school. There was time, maybe 10 years ago, when I happened to run into her. We exchanged emails and she wrote to me and I completely dropped the ball of our correspondence. I know why I did. I just didn't have anything to report. Nothing I thought would be impressive or interesting. And at that point in my life, I felt a very strong need to impress people. Thankfully, I've lost that urge. Good thing too, since homeless-and joblessness impress very few.
Back to K. When she greeted me at the door, I knew instantly it was a good idea to see her. She's still relaxed, a very roll-with-the-punches kind of chick. She has two very active young boys (C & E) who were climbing trees and jumping off stairs without a care in the world. And her house was a mess, which she informed me is it's usual state. I met her husband, whom I found engaging and fun. I loved every minute of it. K was fascinated with this idea of mine, of leaving my life behind. It was a real "grass is greener" kind of thing. But ultimately, of course, she doesn't want to leave her life; she has a pretty good thing going. And I'm determined to figure out exactly what my life's supposed to look like. For now, it looks okay to me. Just the way it is.
Then there's J. I'd seen J more recently, when we were both going to school in New York. She moved away when she got married (to another former classmate) and again, the only contact I'd had with her since had been through facebook. I knew the basics of her life: husband, home, 3 kids & a dog. This visit was trickier. While I remembered J as an extremely creative girl from a really lovely family, I also remember a sense, at times, of us not liking each other. That sense is hard to pinpoint, but I'm certain it was mostly my fault. God, I could be a real bitch. Still can, I suppose, but not for such petty reasons anymore. Following the posts about her children and the interaction between her and her sisters made me want to know her again, to give myself a second chance to like her. And hopefully, to give her a chance to find me likable.
More time well spent. Her kids were sick and being semi-difficult in the way sick kids can be, but J was a gracious host all the same. And once the kids warmed up to me, I was thoroughly enjoying the visit. I really overstayed my welcome, too. A dinner date had fallen through earlier in the day, so I wasn't in a hurry to leave and I was getting a kick out of this glimpse at a day in J's life. I stayed on through the kids' dinner and when invited to stay for a grown-up dinner once J (husband/father/former classmate) returned from work, I only pretended to think over the offer. With J &J, there was a lot of "what happened to so-and-so?" or "did you know this happened to whatsherface?". I love this kind of stuff. We had a great time catching up over a delicious dinner J kept apologizing for, saying she could have done better with more notice. I suppose everyone feels the need to impress every now and then. Fancy dinner or not, I WAS impressed. And, oh god!, I hope she likes me now!
The family friends:
I spent one day in my old hometown of Dartmouth, with the intention to make two house calls.
First up was B's mom, C, a woman I couldn't find more dear and has known me since I was 11. We hadn't seen each other since B's baby shower, 4 years earlier. A former travel agent, she had plenty of good advice about what to see where and how to get to it. It's always great to talk to her, but I have a very hard time feeling like an adult in her presence. My issue, not hers. Of course, her offer of a loan if I find myself in need didn't help on that front, but it was entirely appreciated.
Before my next meet-up, I killed an hour or so driving around, searching out any place I could think of which held meaning, or did at one point: my old house, the homes of friends, the Friendly's I frequented as a teenager with nothing better to do. Plenty has changed in Dartmouth since I lived there, even in just the 7 years since my last visit. What struck me the most, though, was what a lovely place it had been. The strip-malliness of Route 6 had become even more pronounced and, frankly, repellant, but the neighborhoods are as beautiful as they ever were. Tons of trees surrounding homes with none of the cookie-cutter aspect prevalent in so many towns. I liked living there, but not as much as I should have.
R is one of my mom's closest friends, and although I'd seen her the month before in NYC, I'd promised to visit when I was in the neighborhood. I pulled up to the house just as her husband, I, was getting home. They shared photos of a cruise they'd recently taken and stories from when they first moved to their home, some 40 years ago. I love the idea of the history in that house; the rearing of 4 children and and several more grandchildren, the tree which had been a seedling on move-in day that now far exceeded the height of the house. I've always been jealous of those with a childhood home, a place they could keep going back to. A place that would always be familiar and make them feel at ease. What I realize now is that my mother was right all along when she used to tell me that "home is where my family is". Score another one for the moms. I'd extend it to include those I've made my family, too. Friends, old and new who've
welcomed me into their homes, their lives, really, and made me feel as if I belong right where I am.
9 days and no posts from you. How are people supposed to keep up with you if you don't post? I want to follow this blog, but it really should lead somewhere...
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