Posts
When this world's unkind,
Please keep this in mind,
I will always be standing close behind
With a hand to hold
to keep you from the cold
I will be with you,
until we grow old.
You are not alone
You are not alone
Blue Dogs
25 years ago in May I walked off the auditorium stage a graduate of Charlotte Latin School. I was exhilarated that I graduated, nervous about entering a new chapter in life, and heart broken that my fellow graduates and I were heading in different directions. Daddy always tried to tell me that, although he understood I was close to my high school friends, I would be just as close to my college friends, and then work friends, and so on. He was trying to implant in my heart that it was okay to move on, exciting even. The summer after graduation we played hard and loved hard, and come mid August we said our goodbyes. On the night before our departure, after the group had given their last hugs and gone home to prepare for the next day, one of my very best friends and I sat in my driveway on Country Lane and, unwilling to accept our fate and wishing time could stand still, cried until the early hours in the morning.
As I have mentioned in earlier posts, my friends played a huge role, more than they knew, in my high school years. Those years are hard for any teenager. Throw in some dysfunction and insecurities on top of that and you have me. A lost soul. They were my escape from the drama of the home. To me they were my security. They helped transform that scared and insecure girl into who I am today. My senior year, when mom died, they rallied around me and tried their hardest to protect me from even more hardships. So where many of them were excited about what the future held for them and the independence they were about to encounter, I felt as if enough change had come to my life. I would have preferred to stay right where I was, with everyone else right there by me.
We went off to college. In the beginning we wrote letters. We cried for hours on the phone together. We visited each others colleges. We got together over Thanksgiving and Christmas and summers. And then we got settled in our own schools. We made different friends. We went weeks, sometimes months with out speaking. We went to Law School, Graduate Schools, started jobs, moved to different cities. We got married. We had children. We got busy with life. We sent Christmas cards.
Since my 20th reunion we have made great efforts of meeting up once a year. Ironically, everyone is back on the east coast, within driving distance to Charlotte. We talk some of the children, jobs and current events. Mostly we laugh. We laugh until tears are strolling down our cheeks. We remember things that we haven't thought of in years. Most of the sentences start with, "Can you believe we did this?" or "I would never let my children do that". And they always end in hugs and "I love you", and "I can't wait to see you again".
This past weekend was my 25th. I got in the car on a Gorgeous Friday afternoon and shouted out a giant WOOHOO. Partly because I was in need of a break from playing taxi, cheerleader, house manager and maid, but mostly because I was excited for the visit. Feeling particularly emotional and vulnerable lately, I was ready for their embrace. Throughout the entire weekend I was welcomed with warm, familiar arms and smiles, and drawn in by more stories of the days when.
I ran into my pre-algebra teacher who taught me to love math(at least for a year) and without knowing it was my own guidance counselor. Within 30 minutes of mom's death he was at my door, reaching his arms out, asking what he could do for me. My French teacher was there, who taught 3 of the Fletcher kids french, but alas, struggled the most with me. She looked amazing, as if she could have graduated with us. I spoke to my Physical Science teacher, who, on several occasions, asked to see me after class just to make sure I was okay because he saw the sadness in my eyes. The good ole Doctor was there, a math teacher that taught math above my level, but taught David and Richard too. He was always full of jokes(he even admits how bad they were) and always stopped and talked to me in the halls, even though I was not a student of his. And lastly, the current events/economics/history teacher and my advisor for 4 years stopped by. I walked around the campus with him on many cold mornings listening to him try to me and inspire me to do better. He loved me, and my family. How grateful I am to have been surrounded by caring faculty during such a volatile time of life...Not only were my friends of high school a large impact on my life, but the staff was as well.
As the night went on, I felt a sense of extreme sadness. The majority of our class had left, leaving behind the same folks I cried over 25 years ago. The same friend I cried with in the driveway began to cry again. And as that group began to wind down and head home, I cried harder with every hug.
Daddy was wrong. Although I did make great friends along every path I travelled, there is simply no replacement. These guys were family. They are family still. Goodbyes were still hard.
Over the next couple days I have received texts from them... "love you Fletch!" "great to see you bud!" My favorite was from a friend, recently sober... " I was down today since it was all over. That was the most fun I have had in years. Love you"
And in the mailbox I received a letter from my advisor... Addressed to : Happy Cathy Fletcher Himan.
... Your enthusiasm and self confidence shows how far you have come since I first knew you...
The enthusiasm and self confidence that he was writing of took root in my high school years. Though during the time I was dealing with unfortunate things, the love of my friends and the faculty kept me above water and showed me that I could battle any circumstance. As years went on, they never failed to continue the love and faith, no matter what life dealt us, or how many states divided us. I always know that they have my back, that they are still surrounding me and protecting me, like they did so many years ago.
