Some times you meet somebody and you think you have a connection that will last forever.
And sometimes you meet someone who will be your friend forever and you don't even know it, or recognize its worth.
He calls me about once a week now, asks how my most recent holiday went, talks about those days when we were at VCC together. He often reminds me of the day I asked him to come collect firewood with him, and the time he pointed out how the light reflected off the trees. Sometimes he talks about a TV show. One excruciating hour our conversation was about an episode of "Bonanza" and the day he went to the circus. But always he ends by telling me how knowing me has changed his life, and how he will never, ever let me go.
And I send him a card now and then and once for his birthday I made him his own VCC t-shirt, which left him almost speechess. (How did you know I wanted this? How indeed?) And while the phone often rings at inopportune times, I do enjoy his enthusiasm for so many small, mundane things, and I admit I sometimes imagine myself rather a kind, wise person for my benificence in being so generous with my time.
Yeah.
Today's conversation began pretty much like usual, then drifted in to a recounting of times he spent with his maternal grandfather when he was a boy. His grandfather never really wanted to do anything with him or be with him, apparently because he was a 'rotten little character' as a child.
Because you were mentally handicapped, and it threatened him I thought, but just made agreeing noises.
Then he sighed. "Trace, how do you stop thinking about unpleasant things from your childhood? Last night I just thought and thought about how it was…"
Well that's the million-dollar question, isn't it? But I knew it was a big deal for him and I wanted to say something comforting. I resorted to cliche and pop-psychology. I said that some hurts run deep, and thinking about them will probably always make you sad. You may not get over those things, but you must at least get past them, in order to have time for today.
"Remember, all the time you spend being sad about yesterday is time you're aren't enjoying the small things of today". (Yes, I actually said that, Dr. Phil. But hell, if I knew how not to dwell on shit from the past… I would be flippin' Ghandi!)
I offered the possibility that perhaps part of the reason he acted out around his grandfather was because he sensed the man didn't feel comfortable around him, because 'kids know this kind of thing, sometimes without realizing that they know" and so it may not have been his fault at all. And I said sometimes, it's ok to reflect and to be sad, but then you need to put that sadness in a box and move on. It's a part of you, but you don't have to look at it every day. Yada yada yada.
Something I said- or maybe just the chance to talk about this- must have resonated, because he did something he has never done before on the phone: he cried. Then he blew his nose, said that there would be no wars if everyone went to a place like VCC in their youth, and thanked me.
"If I didn't have a friend like you, I don't know what I would do".
He has said it a dozen times before, but this time, it almost made me cry. Having just lost a woman who was supposed to be my actual BFF because of my big mouth, having realized that there will probably never be a picnic at the cabin or parents' birthday where I will feel welcome, knowing that my very presence will cause others to refuse to attend… I was beginning to feel like I would forever be that same awkward, unpopular girl who never fit in… 53 years old and sitting on the floor in the corner at a poetry event because none of the 'cool kids' at the tables invited me to join them. Not quite good enough.
But not to him. To him I am wise and kind and funny and someone he will call and talk to about that day I took him skip-rocking around the lake when no one else would until the day he dies. And no matter how many other people slam their door in your face- that's a pretty great thing.
I thanked him for calling and said that he is a friend I will hang on to til forever. Sometimes, when you build a wall to keep the monsters out, you have to remember to leave a window open for the angels to come in. I forgot that, but my angel didn't…. dialed the phone and squeezed down the chimney.
I guess the important thing isn't who thinks you are funny and loving and special, just that someone truly does, and that there is such a thing as a forever friend.
Tracy Meisky is a poet, writer, singer, songwriter and all-around boat rocker from way back. Feel free to look around, but if you break it, you bought it.