There’s no friend like an old friend
I typed the title of this post in and erased it, typed it in again, and erased it again. I think I’m going to let it stay until I hit the publish button, but I’m not sure. Let me explain why.
This weekend is Homecoming weekend at Western Kentucky University and I’m going for the very first time ever. I was at WKU in the 70’s (yes, I had big hair). I have been back on campus many, many times since then. I got my M.A. from WKU in the 80’s and my daughter graduated from there a few years ago, but I have never attended even one Homecoming celebration.
This year something happened that made me want to go and in a way I have Facebook to thank for it. A sorority sister on Facebook helped me find a friend that I had lost touch with, a good friend. I’m not sure how it happened but I have searched for her for years and couldn’t find her. I told my sorority sister about it and within one day she found her, had her phone number for me and we talked on the phone for the first time in almost thirty years. My lost friend’s name is Rachel. She was one of my first apartment roommates. She and Kim and I shared a three bedroom apartment in the bottom half of a house not too far from campus.
To make a long story short, this weekend will be the first time Kim, Rachel and I have been together since disco dancing was popular. Another roommate, Debbie, is driving up from Atlanta with a girl (okay, woman) I went to high school with. Debbie and I are camping out at another one of my high school buddies house tonight and maybe Saturday night too. I told my husband to expect me home sometime next week. When all of us get together tonight at a local restaurant I hope the waiters are wearing ear plugs. I’ve been to high school reunions and slumber parties. The television show The View is tame when it comes to the noise level a bunch of women who haven’t seen each other in years can make. Who knows, we might just break out singing Donna Summers songs and disco dancing on table tops for old times sake.
The reason I had so much trouble with the title for this post is that in my mind, these women are still just “the girls.” When I look at them I don’t see moms and grandmothers. I see my girlfriends wearing KD jerseys and jeans. I see Debbie driving her beat up old clunker with the windows down and hear the Eagles “Life in the fast lane,” blaring on the radio. I see Rachel agonizing over what to wear to a fraternity party. I see Kim carrying her artwork and plants in and out of our apartment.
Life goes by in the blink of an eye. I love being a wife, mom and nana, but this weekend I plan on being one of the girls again and I can’t wait.
