Wednesday, March 13, 2013

A 50 Year Old Friendship

First of all, I have to say that it's about time I finally decided to post again. I mean it's only been 14 months! How ridiculous is that? Surely, something has happened in the past 14 months that has made me feel strong enough to blog. Oh well, I definitely have something now. And I definitely feel strongly about it, too.
This year I will have been friends with  Cheryl, who I met in fourth grade, for 50years. That's right, count 'em. I said fifty years. WOW  Damn right that's a WOW. That's nearly a lifetime.  And let  me tell you, would have been one dull and boring lifetime without my BestBud and favorite sidekick. She and I have sure had some great times,too. We were kids in the same classroom when we first met. She sat behind me and would pull my hair when she wanted my attentiom; like when she needed a pencil,or wanted  to know the answer  the question the teacher asked, or whenever she just wanted to let me know she was still there. Like Icould forget. During the summer I would generally spend the majority of it at her house. We'd stay awake until all hours of the night playing games, either board games, Barbies, cards or different make believe games we wouldmake up. As we got older some of those nights were spent sneaking out her bedroom window, confident our escapades would never be found out. And we were right until thatone night when we were wrong. Her mother came driving right up tothe corner where we were with several other kids rolling a house. As hard as we begged the ground would not open up and devour us right then and there. We were in big trouble and we knew it. We were not disappointed either. When she pulled up she looked at both of us and said simply,"Get in." She did not sayone word on the way back to her house and neither  did we. She did make sure she was first to the door as we entered the house so we had to pass her. She was not going to make this easy on either one of us. And as bad as I did not want to feel her wrath, the last place I wanted to be was home because I knew that whatever fate I suffered at her hands would be a lot less than I would suffer at home and at the hands of my own mother. At least I got out of this without getting smacked.
Another time we were together we took two guys from Mississippi out in the big city of New Orleans. These two poor countryboys had never seen anything like we showed then that night. I almost feel sorry for them when I think back  on that today.
Needless to  say, whether we were little kids or teenagers, when we got together we were a handful. And we still had adulthood to go.
Of course things calmed down considerably after we had kids. The time we spent together was alot more tame. And later after we were both grandmothers, we once again spent the night at her mother's house and we talkedabout thise early days with her. Her memory was prettygood too. She seemed to remember the things we did,sometimesbetter than we did.
And this year marks fifty years since that Septemberday in 1963 when I  first  got my hair  pulled  and heard, "Hey!"  Little did I know then but that was the day that my life  was  changed  forever. And  boy am I glad that it was.
I love you, dear one. And can't  imagine  life  without you in  it. And  I and so happy that I  have  never  had  to!

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