Dedicated To The Ones I've Loved

**Just a note, this entry was written several months ago. However, in the spirit of new beginnings and the start of a new year, I stumbled upon it, deciding it was definitely something important to say.

I have been thinking a lot about old friends lately. This whole year, really. As 2010 speeds quickly by and leans into the holiday season, I have begun thinking about what I’ve really accomplished this year. I know, it’s a little early for New Year’s reflections, but I have been trying to really live in the moment this year and value what all of my time has gotten me so far. I’ve decided that this has been the year of destinations and reconnections.

I have done a lot of traveling this year, mostly because living on the West Coast has caused me a lot of longing for places and people from whom I feel furthest. The thing about traveling, especially to places of your past, is it lends itself to a lot of nostalgic undertakings. I can’t help but reflect on the experiences and people of my life up until this point, especially as they coincide with a particular place. After I leave a place, I inevitably yearn for those times that have long past when I bonded with different people as we shared that place. I wish I could reach back and reconnect myself with them to be as close as we once were. But, alas, such is life, is it not? No matter how many people we come into contact with and promise to not let go of, it happens, inevitably.

I think this has always been the hardest fact for me to grasp in my life. In middle and high school, I had a lot of friends from all over. Summer camps, retreats, clubs, sports, and any other variety of activities that link us from one person to another dominated my life. In a lot of ways, these activities, and these people especially, kept me afloat. The friends I made at Tanager Lodge, in the FFA, at Guggenheim, and even at college are the reasons I am who I am today. They are a large part of the reason I was able to survive my very rocky and sometimes traumatic adolescence. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts or intentions, I lost track of many of these people. Never leaving them far from my mind, though, believe me. I continue to tell stories, to this day, of late nights with my OG’s, creeping through the woods, or early morning dipping in monsoon conditions. I sigh aloud when I see anything corduroy, especially if it hints in hue to National Blue and how I used to savor the chance to don that beautiful blue jacket with the Corn Yellow lettering. I think reflectively on all of the lessons I learned from the people who shared these experiences with me and feel a lurch in my heart and my stomach when I realize just how far I’ve drifted from them. I gaze out on still lake waters in the summertime when I visit the Adirondacks and wish I could somehow rewrite the last 10 years to change how my relationships morphed; how I could get back to looking out over those waters with the people I love, to this day, because they helped shape who I have become.

But then I remember. We all made choices that led us in different directions. No matter how I could have tried to change it, I still wouldn’t be able to reach out and touch some of these people. That’s life, right? A constant cycle of movement, change, and progression. You go on to meet new people, who become part of your current reality. Maybe these new people catch the light a certain way or glance in your direction with a familiar look on their face and you remember someone who looked in a similar fashion at you 15 years ago. Someone hands you a slice of watermelon and as you reach out to grab it, looking them in the eyes to thank them, you see, just for a second, your best summer camp friend on the other end of the rind. You lie in a patch of grass in a park half way across the world, but when you close your eyes and listen to the birds and the trees you find yourself drifting back to a similar day when you laid on the grass holding the hand of a boy who you thought you’d love forever. What do we do with these moments and how do we rectify that these people, who held such an important place in our hearts and lives, are somewhere else barely remembering your name?

I’ve had a lot of trouble and sadness in my life. I’ve always struggled with goodbyes because of that sadness and, to this day, I have a lot of trouble and awkwardness around that part of a visit or trip. Call it abandonment issues, call it trouble coping, call it whatever you want. The truth is, as much sadness as I’ve had, I’ve had 10 times more love. I’ve been hugged and smiled at by some of the most amazing people on this planet. People I thought I’d be in touch with forever; who’d be my pen pals and who I’d honor by keeping up my end of the bargain; who I swore I would never forget. Every tear I ever cried during every goodbye I’ve ever said felt honest and real. As silly as I felt crying them, sometimes, over people I knew I’d see again, never stopped them from falling. I realize now that I was crying those tears because of the fears I held. What if I don’t see them again? What if something happens and I can’t come back to this place? What if they don’t come back? Even as a kid, I embraced an awareness of the very real fact that things don’t always work out the way we hope or think they should. Even though I planned on going back to camp to work, life happened. Even though I intended on going to State Convention every year I lived in New York, life happened. Moms get sick, people move, relationships get in the way, life happens. You can’t change it. I couldn’t change it. But, I could look back on those tears and be thankful that I cried them. Those tears were real for every person I cried them for. Those relationships were real every minute I was a part of them. Those people were, and are, important to me every day, even if I don’t see them very often.

So what’s the take away here? You got me. I am still trying to figure it out. I have done a lot of reconnecting over the course of this year. Some of which has been very spontaneous and unexpected and some anticipated and planned, but each one always welcomed. As I continue on my cosmic journey, trying to understand what all of these connections mean in my life, I continue to be thankful for them. I feel blessed to have known the people I have known in my life, so far, and know that I was introduced to them for a reason. I have lost a lot so far, but I have loved a lot too. Faded as some of these relationships may be, they have not tarnished in any way. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all of those people I have met and loved; some of whom I hope read this posting and know I’m talking about them. I apologize for not being a better friend or a more attentive pen pal. But I do think of you often, even laughing out loud when I do, remembering the crazier days of our lives. I believe it is never too late to reconnect and we are often better for it. I got together a few weekends ago with several of my best friends from college, some of whom I hadn’t seen in 5 years and it was just the elixir I needed to replenish my spirit about friendship. It was so refreshing to jump right back in where we left off, laughing and making asses of ourselves, but being there together. I can’t even relate how good it made me feel to have that connection or how stupid it made me realize I’d been to think that it may have been lost. I felt blessed that weekend by those people and they are definitely included in my thanks. I love you penguins! So, I guess the take away is just that: it’s never too late. If you had a connection with someone or a group of someones, that connection was meant for a reason. It doesn’t just happen. There is always a meaning for it. So, don’t ever let yourself believe that you’ve lost it – chances are the other person is feeling that way too. Reach out, say hello, get a drink and catch up. Or, if distance is your enemy, thank Mr. Zuckerberg for giving us an outlet for outreach – despite all its many misgivings. Whatever your method, resend your friend request. I know I will.