I have the flu and am out of commission.

I’ll be back next week!

 

When my friend and writing buddy, Janet Givens, posed interesting questions on her blog last week about first best friends, I thought, Oh, my God! I don’t think I had one. There’s something terribly wrong with me. Everyone I know has tons of best friends from their early life.

Take my husband, Bill. He has loads of old friends who he keeps in touch with on a regular basis. His school and college reunions are always a special time for him. I love watching those guys come together again after many years of being apart. With some it’s as if there has never been a long separation.

I also feel a great deal of envy on those occasions. I wish there was someone from 4th grade I could have a reunion with. Or maybe even from high school.

I remember two special friends from grammar school but our relationship didn’t last very long. The first was Sandra, who lived down the road. We walked a mile to school together. We were in 3rd grade and made clothes for our dolls out of scraps of cloth from her mother’s scrap basket. I really liked her and her mom, too. But then my parents discovered she was Jewish. That was the end of that. I never understood their reasoning.

Then there was Nadine, the black girl, who was in my fourth grade class. I stopped by her house one day on my walk home. We were playing kickball in her front yard with a bunch of other kids, when my mother drove by looking for me because I was late arriving home. Orders came from on high (my father) that I couldn’t play with her anymore. She was the wrong color.

There always seemed to be something wrong with everyone I was friends with. I had to keep my contrary thoughts to myself or face long harangues about who was right for me to play with and who just wasn’t good enough.

On top of that, all throughout my childhood, my architect/home builder, dad, moved us from one unfinished spec home to another. I made friends with new classmates, but then a year or so later when the house was finished and sold, we’d move again. I always had to start over.

It wasn’t until jr. high and high school that we finally had a home of our own where we stayed until I graduated … except for the year my parents packed me off to boarding-school because they wanted to break up my romance with Steve. No he wasn’t black or a Jew. He was a boy.

Then after graduation off we moved to Vermont. I was only allowed to apply to school there because tuition was cheaper than going out of state. I got into three colleges but my dad picked the one closest to home.

Whether I was born an introvert or not, I know my upbringing had a lot to do with my being shy and often needing time just for myself. I never knew anyone long enough to relax and fully trust them. At times I had to keep my friendships secret … never inviting them home … afraid of what my father would do or say.

Bill on the other hand went to the same prep school all of his life, except for a few years when he lived in Paris with his family. Though his parents were also prejudiced in many ways, they weren’t as awful as my folks. When Bill became a boarder in the upper school, his classmates became his family. His parents were often traveling.

I missed my 50th college reunion this year because of health problems here at home, but I’m not sure I would have gone anyway. My freshman year roommate, Connie Fuesting, was there, and I missed seeing her again. But among those who attended, I really didn’t know any of them. After our freshman year, both Connie and I took a year off from school and went back to New York to work to give ourselves time to figure out what we really wanted to do with our lives.

We both returned a year later. Connie lived on campus and I became a day-student, commuting back and forth from Killington. Not living on campus, I missed the opportunities of daily college life, freedom from my family, and living with my friends.

I did, however, have a two day-student friends from Rutland, who commuted with me in my antique, olive-drab, VW bug. (That’s a whole other story.) At Killington, there were a few ski-bums I was friendly with and dated once or twice. But most of my after school time was taken up with studying and working for my father. Then I met Bill and we got married. I was no longer under my father’s roof and rules. Having friends of all colors, religions, and ethnic backgrounds became very important to me.

Over the years I did see Connie from time to time, but lost touch with everyone else. We had a lovely reunion just a year ago in Vermont, when I went up to spend time with family and friends who still live there. I have no doubt we’ll get together again before too long.

What makes this blog so momentous for me is that this past week, one of my college commuting buddies, Joanne Goodrich, found me on Facebook. She was my Maid of Honor when I was married. Checking through her list of Facebook friends, I found another woman we hung out with, Gail Savarese. I’m beside myself that these two have shown up in my life again. Even though we live miles and miles apart, perhaps one day we’ll have a reunion of our own.

Do you keep in touch with old friends? How often do you see them?

Last Friday, on the 19th of June, Bill and I celebrated 50 years of marriage! If you count the two years we spent hanging out together before the wedding day, you could call it 52 years. Wow! Who’d a thunk it! How did it happen and where has all that time gone?

When I told folks about this major landmark event, they wanted to know how we planned to celebrate such a feat. In January we considered having a big party, perhaps at one of the nearby vineyards. But as the list of those we wanted to invite grew to include well over 100 people, we stepped back and figured out that the cost and the fact that we could better enjoy our friend’s company in smaller gatherings, we nixed that idea.

Instead we spent four nights the week before in New York City enjoying the theatre. And what an amazing trip it was. I wasn’t sure it would go very smoothly with Bill still having pain from his recent knee surgery and his use of a cane. But it worked out well despite the fact that we didn’t walk the High Line as planned and our trip out to the New York Botanical Garden was cut short due to the walking.

But we did see Helen Mirren, in The Audience. Having just won a Tony for her portrayal of Queen Elizabeth II in that play, it was an amazing evening. I was filled with awe that this actress could change costumes and go back and forth in time with the necessary changes to her body within seconds.

We also saw, Skylight, which won a Tony for the Best Revival. Both Carey Mulligan and Bill Nighy, one my very favorites, were nominated for Tonys. A love story, it’s about the reunion of two lovers who had an affair years ago and split up when the wife of the cheating husband found out about it. Now after the recent death of his wife, he tries to renew his relationship with his former lover. Both actors shine in their roles as they maneuver through the differences that time and changing norms have made to make it more difficult to come together again. It was sad and funny with reminders that life as a couple can be difficult and fraught with hazards whether marriage is involved or not.

We also saw and enjoyed, An American In Paris, the recipient of four Tonys. Both Gershwin fans, the music provided us with deep emotional connections to early musical entertainment as it was back in the day when musical giants like these brothers were at the top of their game. However, we both agreed that while everything about the show including the songs, dance, set design, lighting, and all thing technical were lovely, their was something missing. Perhaps it was Gene Kelly who starred along with Leslie Caron in the 1951 film.

But the show that blew both of us completely away was, Fun Home, based on the best selling graphic memoir by, Alison Bechdel. With music by Jeanine Tesori and book and lyrics by Lisa Kron, this show ran away with five Tony awards including Best Musical. It also ran away with our hearts. Being in the audience at Circle in Square, where the show took place surrounded by what I liken to a ball park crowd was thrilling. It was almost impossible to not join the shrill whistling of the roaring crowd, celebrating the actors, musicians, and the story of a girl who comes out of the closet as a lesbian only to discover that her dysfunctional father was also gay. Just as Bechdel’s graphic memoir sets a new bar for memoir writers, the show also sets a new standard for what musical theatre can be like in the future. Don’t miss it.

This past weekend we were delighted to spend time with our kids and grandkids. Not only were we celebrating our 50th, it was Lisa and Deena’s first LEGAL anniversary on Saturday, the 20th. They’ve been together for 18 years now and with that new event thrown in, it can be confusing as to when to celebrate their union.

They along with grandkids Zoe and Noah, shared the tab with our son, Mark, for dinner on Saturday night. The good times continued on Sunday, which was Father’s Day and the first day of what looks like it will be a hot and steamy summer.

It was a week and more filled with remembrances of times past and looking ahead into the future as both Zoe and Noah march into their 12th and 15th years over the next several months.

I don’t know where the time goes, but we sure have had fun celebrating. What big events will you be marking this year?