A Slice Of Life: My Best Friend

I met my first best friend in junior high, 8th grade to be exact. I'd spent a year of misery in the enriched program of the 7th grade. I was a pariah and had just one friend, another outcast. I didn't fit in because I was just too emotionally immature. The other kids made fun of me and I crumpled. By the end of the year, I was begging to get out of the enriched program and back on the regular track.

That was where I met my first best friend. She was already hanging out with a sweet but terribly insecure girl and the three of us became fast and true friends. Having a friend makes life bearable in school. We laughed together, gossiped together, shared our notes and our dreams and our resentments of authority and parents.

When we were in junior high, anything could give us the giggles and I'd laugh so hard I'd collapse against a locker, practically in tears. Other people would look at us like we had six heads but I didn't care--I had friends now. My friend's parents had emigrated to this country after escaping the Communist regime in eastern Europe; I told my friend all about my family.

We shared a few adventures together, one day "breaking out" of school right after lunch and heading for downtown. We did nothing that day but walk around talking. It was better than being in school!

I wish I could say that I'm still best friends with her but we drifted apart a few years after high school. I lost touch with her until very recently. Two years ago, I got her email from our class reunion organizer and I wrote to her. She wrote back, very excited to hear from me but said she had to go out of the country for a few weeks. She said she'd write me back but she never did. I tried to email her once or twice but never got an answer back.

Oh well...I get it. Sometimes you just can't go back to the way it used to be.

Here is my first best friend with another classmate. We went back to visit our old teachers at junior high one day. I took the picture.

Small Memories

The very first memory I have is going into the kitchen to get a bottle of milk from my mom, returning to the living room and flopping on the couch to watch cartoons...always the TV, right? And this would have been back to around 1956 or 1957!

I also remember a dog named Sweetie who wasn't sweet at all. Whenever I would run, she would chase and snap at me. She had to go when she attacked my knees and bit me so hard they bled.

I remember my grandparents would come and pick me up to take me berry picking with them. I loved it! Blackberry bushes weren't as much fun, if I remember correctly--the branches could scratch you. Grandma used to take me to the grocery store with her on Saturdays and there I could pick out a Little Golden Book to bring back to her house. All the books were shared with my cousins and I got over that minor annoyance by telling myself that I was the one that got to pick them out.

I was luckier than most kids nowadays because families tended to live within close proximity of each other. Until I was 10, my cousins were also close playmates. In this picture, my mom holds my brother Pete. My arm is around my cousin Robert and that's my cousin Anne to our right.



When I was 5, I went to kindergarten. Our bus driver was a Ketcham, a distant relation of mine through my grandmother's family. Everyone knew everyone else back then. I could go to the corner deli by myself as a very little girl and buy red licorice whips with money my parents gave me.

This is my kindergarten picture. My hair used to be a shade of auburn!



This handsome young man is my very first fiance, Glen. Everyone thought we were so adorable saying we were going to get married when we grew up. We would sit together on the bus and it wasn't always so great. Once Glen stepped into a pile of dog poo and it didn't all quite come off his shoe. He was pretty stinky and I think I would have sat somewhere else except that we were engaged and I felt obliged to stick by hi. Pee-yoo! We would visit each other for play dates and here we are, graduating from kindergarten!



I've often wondered what happened to Glen and if he is happily married now. Before second grade, my parents bought a house in Brentwood and we moved from Islip. I remember how my grandmother cried and my mom tried to reassure her we'd just be 10 minutes away. I think Grandma enjoyed the fact that we could walk back and forth to visit. This picture was taken while I was in first grade but I'm not sure if I was still going to Islip or if we'd already moved to Brentwood.


This picture was taken in third or fourth grade. My hair had already darkened to brown and I'm now totally brunette except for the gray.

Then and Now

Today John Lennon would have been 67. Sixty seven!!!

This song is ageless. There's always been a war. There always will be. I remember when this song came out at the height of the Vietnam War. I was so sick of all the killing and seeing soldiers' bodies being carried off the screen. Maybe that's why coverage of the Iraq war seems so limited? We're not allowed to see bodies in bags or in coffins as they come off the planes anymore ... why? So we don't get as sick of it now as we did then?

If only...

Imagine....