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Tag: friendship (Page 1 of 3)

Do I Really Need to Come Up With a Subject?

June 15, 2011 /

I am sitting here in my kitchen – laptop on the table, working from home.  Alongside the table is a window, looking out onto the side of the house, where I have two bird feeders set up.  It is a beautiful day, full of warmth and sunshine, and I’ve been lucky to watch as the birds have been visiting the feeders non-stop.  Plenty of finches, both gold and purple, cardinals, a downy woodpecker, several catbirds, a tufted titmouse.  Pesty mourning doves, sparrows, and grackles; a Downy woodpecker and either a white breasted nuthatch or black capped chickadee, I’m not sure since it flew away too quickly for me to get a good look.  A red squirrel leaped nearly 5 feet from the ground to get to the finch feeder, which prompted me to go outside and raise it higher.  I was even treated to the neighbor’s cat climbing into the dogwood tree to try and catch said squirrel

The kids are home – Will’s last day of school was yesterday, and Katie graduates tomorrow from pre-school.  I don’t understand how, on such a gorgeous day, they are not in the backyard – or at least out on the porch – but they’ve been inside more than out.

Days like this truly are a gift, and we need to thankful for them.  Days like this allow for meditation, to slow down, to examine, and reflect.  I worked all morning on a note to send to Susan, from last night’s exchange, but the process of writing, of crafting forces me to carefully consider what it is I mean to say, to try and transcend the words into feeling and emotion; it also forces me to find my own answers to my questions.  In the end, I discarded my original note.  She was right – she  has told me the truth.  She is perplexing, but sometimes I am too dense to recognize, other times I need more time to figure things out.  I’m sorry for being such a jerk lately.  I’m an analyst, I figure things out, I break them down into understandable components, and I get caught up in details.  No excuse – she is free to slap me next time, I deserve it.

Posting

March 21, 2011 /

Where have all my posts gone?

Nothing is missing – all of my previously written posts are still here.  What I mean is – where are the new posts?  Not much been posted here in the past six weeks or so.  Perhaps I’m going through an inspirational dry spell, or I’ve been busy to the point that I’m too busy to write about the busy-ness?  Maybe the time of the day usually spent composing and posting has been consumed with other things, such as exchanging emails for hours at a time.

I wrote how Susan and I had batted emails back and forth for a few hours a week or so ago.  Last weekend, emails for twenty or so minutes, followed by an hour and a half phone call.  This past week, another two and a half hour email session, nearly followed by phone call.  Susan’s been stressed, caring for her sister, trying to maintain her family.  She’s been battling demons for years.  I guess I’m a friendly ear.  Sure, we have a history, but a most unusual one.  I know I’m nothing special, there are hundreds of thousands of people in the world like me: just nice people trying to do their best.  That’s all I offer.  For as jaded and cynical adulthood might have made me, I still try to see the good in people; I generally trust everyone.  Maybe I am naïve, but people need to earn my mis-trust.  For as much as I might have been hurt by Susan, I’ve always cared for her, and always desired her friendship.  That might be hard to understand, but it is what it is.  So it is with great excitement that I’ve embraced our renewed friendship.  I’d been patient for a long time; with the thawing of our sometimes icy friendship, I admit I’ve been a bit of a kid in a candy store.  Questions?  Honey, I am full of questions.  I truly, truly love that Susan is back.  It makes me smile each time I get a note from her and I look forward to receiving them, or when I think of something, and I don’t hesitate to write about it to her.  I could listen to her for hours.  And I am practicing restraint…  I feel closer to knowing Susan than I ever have.

There is nothing going on.  I’m happy way up here, and Susan way down there.  We’re married, with families.  We are friends, who have not talked this openly to each other in a very, very long time, maybe ever.  Making up for lost time?  Are we talking too much?  Maybe.  Is that dangerous?  Honestly, it could be.  We need to find the right balance.  Be careful what you ask for – you may get it.

Two More Hours

March 10, 2011 /

Spent two hours exchanging nearly 80 emails with Susan last night.  Yes, they really do make chat applications – like AOL IM, and Yahoo Messenger and Google Chat and Windows Live Messenger – but why use an application like that when you can do things the hard way?

Anyway, her sister’s biopsy was yesterday; her cancer has metastasized to her chest, and it may or may not be related to her cervical cancer.  Not much to do but wait and pray for the best.

Five Hours

January 28, 2011 /

Five hours – that is how long I was on the phone with Susan today.

She phoned at 9:17 this morning, and we ended the call around 2:15.  I had actually started out this morning on the drive to work, but decided to turn around and work from home since the roads were more slick than I liked and we’d already gotten a late departure.

I was at my laptop, connected to the B-MS VPN, when the phone rang.  I reached over to pick it up and glanced at the caller ID which read GROSS DAVIDD.  Funny thing is, although I was certainly not expecting a call from Susan, I also wasn’t surprised.  I’d been thinking about her (nothing unusual there) especially since I sent her Happy Birthday wishes.  Well, maybe she did catch me off guard, but I was happy to hear from her.  She thanked me for her birthday poem, and then we chatted, and talked, and talked… it was fortunate that my work calendar was pretty much clear for the morning, and I was not disturbed by any urgent email or OC messages.  Another funny thing is that even though we spoke for five hours, we could have and would have talked for five more.  A lot of territory was covered, from 1979 through today; plenty of laughing, and too much crying.  Lots of good, open, honest conversation.  Time kept truths were revealed.

After five hours of sometimes very emotional conversation I was left exhausted and drained.  Five hours!

We’re good… (?)  Yeah, I think so.

Happy Birthday #49

January 24, 2011 /

Today is the day we celebrate your birth:
The day you were born, your first day on Earth.

For forty-nine years we have celebrated you,
On the 24th of January, since 1962.

There’ve been parties with cakes, balloons and more,
And of course there’ve been cards and presents galore!

There was a drawing once, such a long time ago,
So long I’d forgotten – or misremembered it. Though

It took time to create, I don’t recall the source
From which I had copied that single horned horse.

It was created in pencil, and inked with a pen.
Every detail was checked, again and again,

Until finally it was done; the gift was complete.
Packed for delivery, it was carried down the street

To the post office for mailing, to you, from me,
To arrive some days later in Elkins, WV.

It was just one gift, created for you
When we were just kids with growing up to do.

The pen I still have, but it is now out of use
Though I hope that one day I will recover my muse.

So instead of a drawing it’s a poem you get
(though I hope that you’ve not given up on it yet.)

It’s a song to send wishes of happiness to you;
It is hoping for fun, in whatever you do,

Because this is the day that we take time each year
To remember your birthday – we’re so glad you’re here!

Now go and enjoy, my long-lost found friend,
Because sadly I write, this poem’s come to its end.

Happy Birthday, Susan.

From Zero to Sixty

January 3, 2011 /

For near 25 years, since 1985, Susan and I had very little contact.  I sent her a few letters here and there – I heard nothing back from her – and that was it for 18 years.  I reached out to Susan in late December 2002, and we traded a handful of emails, but she wrote that it was incredibly weird to be in touch again, denied her own existence, and took off running.  Afterward I heard nothing at all from Susan until she sent a couple random notes in early 2008, followed by more silence.  No contact – zero.  I chalked it up, and life went on.

Until 2010.

On February 14, Susan replied to the birthday wishes I send her each year.  Understand me, I was ecstatic to hear from her, but I’d been down that road before with her, and when I replied and did not hear again from her after several weeks and months I thought she was gone again… and then just by happenstance in mid-April I took a look at my inbox on YouTube and saw a reply, from her daughter’s account dated February 27, to my email.  I wonder what it was she was thinking when I took so long to reply to that note.  Since that date, Susan has sent me over sixty separate notes.  What made her decide, now nearly a year ago, that it was time?

Regardless – I’m just happy that it happened.

Rings Around The Moon

December 21, 2010 /

A full moon on a cold Winter night, especially when a ring is present, always reminds me of my sophomore year at La Salle. I was living in the Hillary dorms, sharing room 113 with Roger; overall my time at La Salle was uneventful, and I rarely look back on those days.  I have only passing memories, save for just a few…

Dan Fogelberg’s The Innocent Age album had been released that Fall, and I listened to it a lot, especially the song In The Passage:

There’s a ring around the moon tonight

And a chill in the air

And a fire in the stars that hang

So near, so near

The second and third floors in Hillary were women only, and Maryann roomed in a single on the second floor.  Maryann used to visit me in my room, chatting and being a generally nice person.  We talked about school, about music, the comedy of Albert Brooks… she just kind of hung out, being nice… She technically completed her required credits for graduation that Fall 1981 semester, and graduated with the class of 1982, so she moved out of the dorm that December.

The thing is, for as much as I knew otherwise, I was a jerk to her.  I mean, I did like her, but I was going through a rough time myself, was mixed up about relationships, and trust, and never let Maryann get close to me.  She was a smart girl, and tolerated me for just so long before she moved on, but I still think of her each Winter, and I feel bad for having been cruel to her.  I doubt she remembers, or even cares about, any of this – but I do.

Roger and Me

October 25, 2010 /

I’ve known Roger since we were both 13 years old.  We met in 1976 in Jim Gross’ Algebra 1 class when we were both freshmen at Bishop Egan High School.  He wore a rust colored leisure suit.  We shared many of the same classes that year: Fr. Terry’s Social Studies, Bro. Frank’s Religion, Mr. Manzo’s English.  We both tried out for the Blue and Gray Day skit that year: Roger was cast as the Cowardly Lion, and I as Dorothy.  We found that we had a common love of music, and that was enough to bind us together for the next 34 years.  We would catch the bus to the Oxford Valley Mall, where we would cruise the Listening Booth and Wall to Wall Sound record shops.  I remember one such trip when Roger bought Al Stewart’s Year of the Cat, and I bought Stevie Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life.  We hung out together at the Friday night dances, and in the summer when the school year was over we’d hop on our 10 speeds and ride to the Mall, to buy more and more records.  Roger bought Lynyrd Skynyrd’s One More For From the Road; I bought Leo Sayer’s Just a Boy.  We shopped at Jeans West, where Roger helped me pick out the right style gauze shirt;  sporting goods at Herman Brooks; lunches at McDonalds. 

The following school year I attended Bucks County Technical School, and our shared classes ended, but our friendship endured.  Still bound by our love of music, we explored more and more new albums, pushing and feeding off of each other.  We both played under Coach Zaren on the BEHS inaugural soccer team, and we joined more clubs together, staying after school for more and more activities.  I remember when Roger earned his learner’s permit, as he drove up to Steve Wolf and I gathering used skids to be used for our Spirit Week bonfire that November.  At the end of the year, when Roger decided to run for Student Council as a sophomore (gasp!) I was there to help with his campaign, designing the flyers and hanging them along the hallways and stairwells.  Roger did not win that election, but he did force a run-off.  Pretty ballsy for an underclassmen.

Our friendship continued into our Junior year – still more dances, but we explored new territories as Roger earned his driver’s license and the road was ours.  By the end of the year I was named as the Editor in Chief for our Senior yearbook, and I hand-picked Roger as my co-editor.  We painted the yearbook office together, along with Tommy, our Associate Editor.  We worked together to deliver a damn good yearbook, but we also discovered a lot about each other in the process.  In June we graduated, and celebrated Senior Week, followed by our first Genesis concert at the Spectrum, together.  Summer evenings we spent on the Mann Music Center lawn listening to JT, just before we headed off to La Salle College as roommates.  On just our second night as college freshmen I was three sheets to the wind when, from the top bunk of our dorm room, I puked onto Roger in his bed below.  I remember none of it, but he was there to make sure I got cleaned up.  College was a bit of a trial – external and internal forces, combined with excessive alcohol, challenged us at times, but our friendship survived.  When I received front-row center tickets to Bruce’s July 1981 Spectrum concert, it was Roger with whom I shared the extra ticket.  One morning, at Penn State’s Phi Psi 500 weekend in April 1984 we nearly died laughing together over a runner’s leg that “wasn’t right.”  We graduated college, but we remained together for ski vacations to Killington, and summer vacations to Myrtle Beach.  I taught Roger how to drive a stick-shift on my old Tercel Wagon at Tyler State Park.  He witnessed me at my drunken worst one New Year’s Eve, hovering over Neville and Donna’s toilet like a thirsty mutt.  He’s also seen me at my best, as an usher on my wedding day, just as I had been for him barely 10 months earlier… I know I’m missing out on countless number of other times we’ve shared, but I think I’ve made my point:  I can count my close friends on one hand, and Roger is usually number one. 

Which brings us to today… Roger phoned me this evening on my drive home from work, to catch up but also to let me know of a personal crisis he’s going through.  I’m not sure that I was able to convey my truest feelings of sorrow and sympathy while driving, but I do honestly hope that things work out for the best for him and his family – they are in my prayers, and I ask that they be in yours as well.

Hooters

October 3, 2010 /

Received a text from Roger this afternoon: looks like the boys will be back in Philly for a Thanksgiving show on Friday, November 26th at the Electric Factory. Roger and I are in – just need to convince Tommy too!

Global Warming

September 1, 2010 /

Talk about thawing polar ice caps, rising sea levels, calving ice shelves… almost unbelievably, after many years, it seems the division between Susan and I has melted under the hot, dry sun that is the Summer of 2010.  Barely seven months ago, there was absolutely no indication that this turn of events was even remotely possible, but surely as I sit here now, I tell you… Susan and I are reconciled and we are friends, again.  Big deal?  Yes, it is… a very big deal.

We’ve exchanged some emails over the past several weeks, and filled in some of the gaps from over the past 25 years, including what it was that caused our friendship to suffer and fall apart; a lot of questions have finally been answered, and we’ve gained new perspective.  We’ve cleared the air, apologized for past hurts, and we’re ready now to move on and see where this renewed friendship will lead.

Follow Up

June 7, 2010 /

It was one month ago that Susan and I spoke, for the first time in a very long time.  So, what’s been going on since?  Well, we’ve been in touch, emailing back and forth over the past few weeks, and things are going OK.  Things are good.

Honestly, it is a bit surreal – it’s been just so long that I’m often pinching myself to make sure I’m not caught in a dream.  There are a bunch of questions I want to ask, to find out more about where Susan has been, and maybe discuss whatever it was that caused such a split between us for so long, and why I even bothered to find her and wanted to be in touch with her; she might even have a question or two for me…

Graduations

June 6, 2010 /

As we continue to trip down memory lane, today is the 30th anniversary of my Bishop Egan High School graduation… it was on a Friday evening, at St. Michael the Archangel Church, when my fellow graduates and I assembled for the last time as the Class of 1980.  We wore our caps, our gowns, and our blue and gray hoods, and waited throughout the ceremony and Baccalaureate Mass until finally each of our names was called, and we rose in recognition of our newly earned alumni status.  What began on a rainy morning in September 1976 drew to a close, never to open again.  All of the structure and daily rituals with which we’d become so familiar, for many of us was now to be replaced with the much more loosely defined activities of college; some would seek immediate opportunities in the workplace, others would struggle to find their purpose and place in the world, while for some of us those distinctions were not so clear.

I’d carried a lot of baggage along the way; some of it had been useful stuff which offered me a source of inspiration and wisdom, while much of it had been dead weight, dragging me down and keeping me from moving forward.  Sometimes, I am a slow learner; it took a long time for me to recognize when it was time to take action and cut loose the excess baggage, put my learnings and experiences to good use, and move on: to finally graduate.

There is no way that I ever imagined, as I write this now, the various directions my life has taken since that Friday evening; living in New Jersey for nearly 20 years, raising two great kids with a wonderful woman I met nearly 19 years ago, whom I never thought upon our initial meeting that I would marry, now nearly 12 years ago.

On a separate note, today also marks the 31st anniversary of the Bishop Conwell High School Class of 1979 Baccalaureate.  I attended the Mass as a photographer for the yearbook, using Warren Stewart’s 35mm camera, and when I was finished taking pictures I had a hard time re-winding the film onto the spool, as I did not know that there was a button on the camera bottom to release the film. I ended up winding the film too tightly until it snapped inside the shutterbox; I tried to be careful and not expose the film by opening the camera and removing the film in a darkened closet when I got home, and I put the film back inside the plastic barrel and then inside the film box and taped it shut.  The pictures I took that night have never seen the light of day, as that film has never been developed and still sits inside the container.  I really should take it out for development, but after this much time I’d be very much surprised if any images were still on the film. I do remember taking a picture of a daisy that Susan had given me at Joe’s party on the night of June 2nd…

This Sunday,  June 9th, will mark the BCHS Class of 1979 graduation; I was out on the front lawn cutting the grass on that Saturday morning when a car sped up my house, parked, and out jumped Susan to run over and give me an enormous hug of excitement.  Later that night, her family hosted a graduation party at her house on Fairview Avenue; I wore my rainbow suspenders, and briefly met her Mom before heading to the backyard to hang out with Joe and some others whom I no longer remember.  I vaguely recall Zsoka being there, and I think quite possibly I might have gotten a ride home with her; Jimi Hendrix was singing Hey Joe as Zsoka and I were leaving.

I rode my bike over to Susan’s house one or two times during the course of the summer, but by August, Susan and I were hardly speaking; she left for school at Davis and Elkins in West Virginia, and her house was sold out of her parents’ divorce.  When I finally saw Susan again in December of 1979, she was living at the Village of Pennbrook apartments and there was no going back to Fairview Avenue again.

Lastly, today is also the 23rd wedding anniversary of my dear friends Tom and Nicole.  They’re living in suburban Atlanta now for I think 14 years, and I don’t see them nearly as often as I’d like, i.e. maybe once/year if we’re lucky.  We used to spend quite a bit of time together in the late 80’s and in the early 90’s when I first moved to New Jersey (they were living in Somerset back then) back before we were all married with kids.  Their oldest now is preparing for her own graduation and college…

Dawn of the Dead

May 11, 2010 /

Another memorable date, another Friday night, another week later… May 11, 1979.  I had been granted permission to go out on the Friday night following the prior Friday night’s drunken debacle, and this time Roxy, Joe, and Susan stopped by my house to pick me up to head over to the Morrisville Drive-In to view George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead sequel, Dawn of the Dead.  On the way there, we picked up Ed Wagner (this is where I believe I saw the rhododendrons in purple bloom somewhere along Pennsylvania Avenue.)  To be honest, I don’t remember a lot about the night; I think it was a triple feature, and I do recall riding shotgun on the way there as well as during the movies.  I vaguely remember visiting the snack bar, and probably the men’s room, and at one point I know I was sitting in the driver’s seat (I only have two words: tootsie pop) and before I knew it the movies were all done, it was nearly 2:00 AM, and I was in a whole new world of trouble.  Not for being drunk or high, but rather just because it was so late.  I ended up being grounded for the following Friday, and very nearly the Friday after that, but we’ll get to those dates soon enough.

Ordination

May 10, 2010 /

Today is the 30th anniversary of Fr. Richard Davis’, T.O.R. ordination.  Tom and I drove out to St. Francis College in Loretto on the evening of May 9th, slept overnight in the seminary, and the next morning attended the ordination Mass and ceremony for our BEHS teacher and friend.  When I look back on various life decisions I’ve made, attending Fr. Richard’s ordination is one of the better ones, and each year on this date I pause to remember him and that very special day.

A few weeks later, Fr. Richard gave me a small present to celebrate my own special day, my graduation from BEHS.  It is a Paula’s Impressions photograph, upon which is written the following:

I shall pass through this world but once

Any good therefore that I can do

Or any kindness that I can show

To any human being, let me do it now.

Let me not defer or neglect it.

For I shall not pass this way again.

I’ve managed to hold onto this gift for now nearly 30 years, still displayed on a shelf near my desk; I admit I often overlook this photograph in my daily activity, but every now and then it draws my attention, and I pause to think about those words and whether or not I have been true to them.  It never fails to inspire me to be more aware of my actions, and the want to try harder.

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