Reunion
Ya gotta love today’s social media sites, if you’re even remotely interested in reconnecting with people you knew in high school. Or, maybe you’re way on the other side, and find those sites handy for business and family, but can’t imagine looking back as far as high school. I get that. If we didn’t stay in touch, what makes me think we have anything in common now? Still, I’m on the side of reconnecting, and I’m loving the stories of the last 30+ years from friends I used to know.
First, I heard from someone I’d actually been good friends with in high school and for a few years after. She found me on Facebook. Her brother got sick a few days later, and we’re keeping up an email correspondence. Then, one recent Sunday morning, she called me (we’d exchanged phone numbers). Two hours later, I hung up, and was fairly exhausted. The last time Laurie and I had talked, we were living in San Diego. My mom and Owen were still alive, and life was rather routine compared with the last two years.
The two year anniversary of Owen’s passing is coming up soon. I’m not sure how it will hit me this year. Talking about my family with Laurie felt so normal, until I got to the part about Owen dying at 20. Her son was born the same year as Owen, so many similarities. How do I respond? With stories, of course.
Yep. Life happens all around us, and within our own homes, and I’m here to tell those stories, too.
Several other friends from high school have found me now. Or, I’ve found them. All good. All too amazing. The thing about reconnecting is that we share our life stories, all 30+ years of them. That thing, that reconnecting thing…is that…well, you know…
My favorite word today is…cry. Not because I’m so freakin’ mercurial, but because crying is so much a part of life whether or not you’re living in an open space such as this one. And, so much a part of life within the confines of my car on the way home from an evening in San Francisco where I thought I might find something worth taking FORWARD. I did. Did you forget? I’m one of the lucky ones. Nat, Anna, Ruby, Dave, Lea, Emmitt, Karma, jeez, so many others are here to converge on our communal lives together, and I am so thankful. Really, it seems to all come down to this…
Song for the night: Cry, Baby, Cry, the Beatles (“can you take me back where I came from…)
Linda, strength and comfort to you on the anniversary of your son’s death, and I am so very sorry you’ve had to experience this loss. The two-year anniversary of my son’s death was this past November. My best friend got me through. Lean on those who love you. They can never bring your son back, but hopefully they can make you feel a little less alone.
You’ve hit upon a sentiment I’ve never been able to put into words when you wrote ‘Life happens all around us, and within our own homes, and I’m here to tell those stories, too.’ It’s such an odd feeling, living in a world that seems to be going on and stopped all at once.
–englishrain
Dear Linda
You are in my thoughts and prayers, always but especially in the days to come. You have been a pillar of strength and inspiration to me and I will forever be thankful to you. Thank you for sharing your journey and for reaching out to me who has only been walking on this sad and painful road for 4 months.
My love is with you.
Hugs
Alison
Hi Linda
Re-connecting is good. Telling stories is good. Crying in the car is good.
And driving into Ol’ Frisco is surely even better.
Keep going!
I lost my son on 4/22. We still don’t know why. He had back pain for 18 hours, no stranger to him, he had severe scoliosis. Took him to the doctor, got pain meds, my ex was “spelling” me as I took a short nap and I woke up to him no longer alive.
It is incomprehensible and we are still numb at times and other times we succumb to the pain that you know.
It may have been the pain killers, it may be that they missed an ulcer he had (although he had been seen for stomach pain), it may be a combination of factors.
For me, I cannot accept his absence! I cannot accept (on a real level) that I will never see him again!
I hear it will get worse. I can’t imagine anything worse than what is now.
If you can, prepare me for what is coming.
Bless you for having this site. I can surely understand your situation, mine being similar…no reason…possibly never a reason.
Susannah