Reconnection

Recently I wrote about my old friend Wade here – included in a Diary Friday post And I posted a “Wade montage” of photos too, in the wake of that Diary Friday. Wade and I were best buds. With benefits. I cannot imagine my grad school experience without him. We got TO it, man!! The intensity of that cloistered atmosphere certainly had something to do with the depth of our friendship – I saw him every day – and after school ended, I would see him here and there – he worked as a bartender at Puck Fair and I would stop by … but, you know, it faded away. Sometimes people fade away and you don’t realize how much you miss them until much later. We never had a falling out. It’s just that stupid thing that happens sometimes. You lose touch. The last time I saw Wade was in 2003. That’s too long. I still had a number for him – wondered if it was still valid – so yesterday I texted him. “Wade? It’s your old friend Sheila! Can we get together and reconnect?” Within half an hour, he texted me back – and my heart leapt with joy – LEAPT! “Definitely!” We texted back and forth for a while – in the sort of blunt no-nonsense language that that medium demands – it was perfect. No social niceties (he and I never had them -we became friends on sight – and it was one of those friendships where lying just never happened. Not even LITTLE lies. Like when he would ask, “How are you today?” he really wanted to know the real answer, not the socially acceptable, “I’m fine.”) So within 2 seconds of texting – I said something self-deprecating about my texting skills – and he fires back: “Don’t say you’re terrible at texting. Get out of your way.” Wade!! We have a date for a couple weeks from now and I cannot WAIT to see him. I took a walk to the deli after re-connecting with Wade, and the sky was high-flung and blue, with puffy clouds – the Hudson gleamed a deep dark blue – and you could feel the fall in the air. It’s not quite chilly yet – but there’s a crisp edge to the wind that tells you what is coming. Also the sidewalks are littered with fallen chestnuts. It’s almost here. And as I walked, my heart just sang – because of Wade, and the feeling you get when you re-connect to someone who had once been so essential, except you forgot. You were ABLE to live without the person … but what a space he left! I also was pierced with the poignancy of our conversation – and how, after so many years, he went right back into my bullshit with me – like he always used to do. “Get out of your way.” Only truly good friends can do that. You have to EARN the right to talk to someone like that – but once you have earned the right, you have it forever. And it just made me so happy. It made me feel known. And remembered. I know that I am specific to Wade. Like he is specific to me. And sometimes in this life – which can get lonely and hard – things start to feel very general. You start to forget that you are a specific person, and not a type. This sensation of feeling specific comes with all of my good friends – who are in my life on a regular basis – but when I re-connect with someone from my past … who remembers me … and not just who I was to them, or my name … but ME. The Sheila-ness. Like when Michael came and stayed with me and we had the whole crossing-the-street together behavior that we had so many years ago when we were dating. The fact that I always used to, in Wade’s estimation, “get in my own way” with my self-deprecation. He always just wanted me to admit and deal with the fact that I was awesome, and beautiful. He never ever let me get away with casual self-deprecation. He called me on my shit. He didn’t “go there” with me. There is the whole story of my teeth – which I think I have also shared here on the blog in some Diary Friday or other. I still have the note he wrote to me about my teeth pinned up on my bulletin board – spelling errors and all. It’s one of my favorite possessions – and every time I look at it, I remember … not just the event of him passing me that note in some class … but I remember what it meant and still means. It is a reminder. It jolts me out of complacency. It is a gift.

Wade and I were laughing about something, and I kept covering my mouth when I laughed. Wade, of the Eagle Eyes, asked, “Why do you always cover your mouth when you laugh? You shouldn’t. You have a great smile, great teeth.” He was always jujitsuing me with observations like that. I had never thought about my teeth, and I had never noticed I habitually covered my mouth when I laughed. I said, “I don’t know. Do I cover my mouth when I laugh?” “Yeah, you do.”

So I kind of thought about it all afternoon. I suddenly noticed when I laughed – how my hand would fly up to cover my mouth. And I was like: WHY? Why do I do that?? Wade had such a good eye. He was detached, a true observer.

I saw Wade later in a history class. We always sat together. Which was probably a mistake because we found each other very distracting. I said to him, “I think I know why I cover my mouth. I had horrible teeth when I was a kid – going to junior high – and I got braces put on – and I wore them for 4 years!! I had braces for 4 years. Obviously I never felt pretty – I’m not sure I would have felt pretty anyway – but having a mouth full of metal made it worse. I’m not sure if that’s what it is – but I think maybe it is.”

He just listened. He hadn’t asked me “why” because he felt he knew the answer. I wasn’t presenting my “theory” to him, like: “what do you think?” Because, after all, he is not me. My life is not his. He wasn’t judging. Just noticing, and calling a gesture to my attention – saying, in a sense, “Maybe you need to investigate?”

I told Wade about the braces – he didn’t say anything – and then class started. Obviously his mind was tick-tick-ticking away, and he passed me a note. (Please picture him, too, wearing his Stetson and cowboy boots, writing me this note.) I still have it. It’s on my bulletin board right now. In it is LOVE. And a message I need to remember over and over again. I never fully learn it – it’s all a process.

He wrote:

That explains a whole lot. ie. About your mouth. You have beautiful teeth. It’s muscle memory. You may have been an ugly duckling. You’re now a swan. Swans are beautiful and mean.

I cannot explain how great this note is – especially the mean part. It’s so unexpected. It’s so RIGHT. To just say swans are beautiful is to miss his message. The message is that they are not NICE, they are MEAN.

I can honestly say that I probably look at that note, on average, once or twice a week. I don’t ruminate on it, or ponder it … it’s just there … a reminder of soul-growth, and also – to just own who I am. Because we only have one life.

Swans are beautiful and mean.

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4 Responses to Reconnection

  1. just1beth says:

    Wade is a wise man. I loved him the moment I met him.

  2. red says:

    Isn’t he the best?? That was such a fun night, wasn’t it? He took care of us!

  3. A tour of my bulletin board

    The “swann’s are beautiful and mean” note from Wade….

  4. who’s that lady?

    I used to doodle in the margins of my notebooks endlessly. I always drew the same things: luscious women in profile – they always had beauty marks and sunglasses and lipstick and crazy hair … I don’t know why I…

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