The process of saying "Goodbye" began, for me, last November. I knew I wanted to go overseas, so I was sort of trying on the idea of how it felt to be my last Thanksgiving, my last Christmas season (as I will probably be home for the actual holiday) my last Easter, my last visit with friends. Pretty soon, I will be getting down to my last trip to the store, my last sleep in my own bed, with my own pillow, my last morning looking at my face in the mirror. But with about 5-7 weeks left, I am still in the process of saying goodbye to people. Today I had an amazing visit with some of my oldest friends from New Britain, Ct. I attended New Britain High School with these folks and some of them go all the way back to Slade Jr. High School and at least two (Bill F and Kim D) go all the way to third grade at Vance Elementary school.
There is something very comforting about having people in my life who go back so far; we share the common memories of square dancing, Mrs. Olson, and Religion classes. We share learning about the assassination of JFK in 3rd grade, we share common understanding of who the neighborhood toughs were, and what the neighborhood secrets were.
By the time we made it through elementary school, we got up to the confusing experience of Junior High, now known as Middle School. By Junior High school, the stories about the teachers were legend...the teachers who could pick a student up by the front of a shirt, who used a cattle prod to shock students, Mr. Hogan, and the scary science teacher who was also a part time police officer. I'm pretty sure he thought each one of us was a criminal in the making. Such is the stuff of middle school memories.
By high school, I was finding my friends and making inroads into who I wanted to be. Most of that ended on Dec 31, 1972 when I moved with my family from New Britain to Jackson NH. There was a gap left where my friends were. A gap that I have tried to fill since then. The goodbye process helped me out today as I met with some of those wonderful friends from high school that I had known way back then. Most of them I hadn't seen since 1972. The reunion was a wonderful picnic with about 35 folks from the good old days. Granted, some didn't remember me, and some I didn't know at that time, and they didn't know me. But that's the good thing about reunions. We are all adults, now, the cliques are gone and we all can meet each other on an equal footing. The stories went around. The memories were poignant and the day was truly a day in which friendships were rekindled.
I thank my life-long friends Deb P and Carole N for going with me.
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