Only Connect

An old old old long-lost friend contacted me on Thanksgiving. It’s been years. She’s been on my mind (our families are intertwined – I know what’s going on with her and hers, even when I do not see her) – and obviously the same was true for her. She was my first friend. We became best friends in kindergarten. She had a little brown velvet necklace on, and I asked her what it was called, and she said, making a joke, “A boonga.” A totally made-up word. Thank God I got the joke. I thought “boonga” was the funniest thing I had ever heard in my life (gimme a break, I was 5 years old) – and even as we grew up, the humor of “boonga” never left us. A nonsense word. But it can mean so much. And from such an auspicious beginning, years of friendship followed. We drifted apart – and while I have kept in close touch with my core group of high school friends, she and I not so much. We’ve made inroads over the years – we had dinner once in the late 90s – I ran into her on the sidewalk once – she invited me to her wedding reception, which was wonderful – I went with my parents (like I said: families intertwined) but there was always the ghost of who we used to be, hovering around us. I couldn’t bear us to be POLITE. In the intervening years, she has become world-famous. You would know her name. I have walked down the street and seen enormous photos of her in store windows … two-page spreads in The New York Times … imagine how odd that is. Her success has been well-deserved. So in a way, I kept in touch with her that way, as well. I followed her trajectory, not surprised at all – but it is, indeed, an odd sensation. You can feel so far away. I have felt, over the last 2 or 3 years, that something might be ready to shift. Beth has felt it, too. She has had a couple of encounters with our old friend – out of the blue, accidental – which has made her feel like: we are reaching out … all the years in between are meaningless … what remains is the connection that once was there. It is truly remarkable (and RARE) how that can happen sometimes. She and I talked on the phone, and it was so so good to hear her voice, I have tears in my eyes right now. We caught up a little bit – but not really – it was more about our family situations, I had heard of hers, she had heard of mine (our fathers are good friends and colleagues) – so we got right to it. When we said, “How are you doing?” we really meant it. I could hear her two little children in the background, children I have not yet met. My old friend, dangling on the jungle gym wearing her boonga necklace, has 2 small children. And there was her voice again. She reached out to me. It had to take some guts. Not because there’s any animosity there, but because it has been so damn long. Years. Years of silence and nothingness.

We exchanged email addresses.

Thanksgiving. I am thankful that I have lived long enough to move past the anger and bitterness of my younger days. I am angry and bitter about OTHER things, sure … but not the things from back then. There is such a thing as something happening “too soon”. I think, perhaps, when we had dinner 10 years ago – it was “too soon”. There was a barrier there. We were, the dreaded word, cordial. It was awful. We couldn’t break through.

Now, all of that has washed away.

Leaving just the connection.

And that is something to be truly thankful for.