Old Friends

So today I fly up to Northern California and visit my dear childhood friend, Charles. Back then, we called him "Charlie", and that's who he is to me. Was then and always will be.

You know, there's something to be said for "old friends" who knew you "way back then." He is the only friend I keep in touch with that knew me in sixth grade. The girl I was before I became "me". We went to the same junior high and high school. We became great friends at the end of 8th grade.

When I think about it, it's amazing we wound up as best friends. He was very social, outgoing, and popular. Very smart too. But his intelligence wasn't at the forefront of his personality. And I was the smart "nerdy" girl, very conservative. Not shy by any means but also not too confident to go out of my comfort zone of a few female friends. He was involved in lots of activities in high school--ASB, drama, various clubs. I studied hard and did safe things like academic clubs.

But best friends we were. We'd hang out together with our big group of friends. We'd study together. He still tells people he introduces me to that he'd have flunked high school if I had not tutored him throughout our trigonometry class. When my high school boyfriend dumped me, he saw me through it. Before we got our driver's licenses, my mom would give him a ride to high school with me. He'd always be late, come flying around the corner, and jump in the car. A cheerful "Good morning, Mrs. M!" and the whiff of his Polo cologne, and my mom would forgive him. Up until she died, he'd send her a birthday card and always write "Ich Liebe Dich" (I love you, in German) for her. It made her day special, every year.

There's something special about being with a person who knew your parents, your siblings, who was at your side as the story of your life began to unfold. A friend who helped you make college choices, went to the rival college (he chose UCLA, I went to USC), stayed your friend throughout. He was at my college graduation, I went to his a year later.

He was a sounding board when I met my husband, Jose. He listened to me say over and over, "I can't believe he kissed me" after my first unexpected kiss from Jose. I said it the whole weekend because Charlie and I had gone out of town and Jose had kissed me the night before. Poor Charlie! He finally said, "Enough already! So he kissed you!" He was in our wedding and if I had been gutsy enough, he would have been my "man of honor" instead of having a female maid of honor.

He has been Uncle Charlie to my three boys. He remembers every birthday and them at Christmas. Without knowing it or trying to, he has been a symbol of enduring friendship to my boys through his example.

He flew home to attend my mother's funeral three years ago. I was holding myself together until I saw Charlie and his parents in line to pay their last respects. I fell into his arms and cried. He knew my mom and loved her, as all of us did. But he and I shared special memories of mom that others didn't. He was there when I needed him. He didn't hesitate to take off work, fly down here, and be there.

So, when I get on that plane in a few hours, it is much more than visiting an old friend. Yes, I'm sure we'll talk about the future and the "now" of our lives. But more than that, I think we will talk about the Maria and Charlie that started out on this journey of life as teenagers. Where we were and where we went. Where we are headed. The journey along the way. How in the heck we got to be 46 years old. How our friendship has endured 33 years over many miles apart.

I'll be visiting my old friend but in the process, I'll be visiting "me" from long ago, in ways I'm sure I haven't though about in years. And, I think that part of the visit and reflecting on our lives, will be the most memorable part of the trip. I can't wait!