Today I found out that one of my friends from first grade through high school had died. Last Tuesday, while I was home from work with a bad cough and a fever feeling sorry for myself, my old friend died. I wish I'd known in time to say goodbye.
We had kept in touch since high school until only a few years ago, after I moved to Lynn in 2003. At some point I stopped sending out Christmas cards, and she stopped sending hers to me. I guess I deserved that.
And the question I'm asking myself is: Why did I stop sending out Christmas cards? It wasn't because I stopped caring about the people on my list. I still cared - still care, present tense - every bit as much. It wasn't because sending them was too expensive. I may not have much extra money, but I'd gladly spring for cards and postage. No, the reason is that I stopped believing I had anything interesting to say. It's a function of the depression I struggle with every day of my life.
I feel guilty because I didn't live up to my potential. I didn't finish my master's degree. I work as an administrative assistant. I couldn't keep my marriage together. I moved out and left my kids with their dad, which seemed like the right idea at the time. They're grown now, and at the moment the boys are in the other room playing a board game, and my daughter called yesterday from Chicago, so I don't think my relationship with them suffered. But I still feel like a failure.
I feel boring because I don't do anything spectacular in my life. What would I say in a Christmas card? "I didn't take any wonderful trips to foreign countries. I didn't finish a novel and get it published. I didn't go out on a single date for the sixth year in a row." How many ways can I say "I play handbells" - one of the most interesting things about me?
And so I've lost touch with a lot of wonderful people, people I wish I still could talk to or write to or exchange Christmas or other cards with. And on some vague level I think it can all be fixed. But then someone dies, and the chance is gone forever.
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Dear Ginny,
Our paths have followed similar roads....administrative assistant at a college; finished only one year of the master's degree, not having the confidence to get through the tough times to do anything but assist. But I remember how intelligent you were..and honest and what a beautiful voice you had. I really loved singing in acappella choir.
Last time I saw Beth was at the alumni choral concert 2 years ago. There is always a feeling I get from joining others in singing together: to reignite that flame in your heart that comes from the dance of harmony achieved in bringing together the parts of the song. Beth was one of the sweetest people. I'm so sorry for your loss of a close friend. I am so sorry that Beth has gone.
I've always wanted to get back to the piano which I had played one year each in about 1958, 1970 and 1985 and finally broke the bank to get an electric keyboard. It has given me a focus for expression, a return to youth (Love rocking out!...You Can't Always Get What You Want...Beatles, gospel, folk, well, ....etc.) and a goal to get beyond the shyness that comes from accepting (but focusing too much on) my dam faults!
Your writing flows, woman!
Write, anytime.
Love and remembrance,
Kathy J.
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