Tuesday, 14 August 2007

old friends

Stall holders watched us expectantly as we grazed past their wares. Absentmindedly handling tactile items within grabbing distance but not really paying any attention to the retail therapy that had been suggested as an activity for that sunny afternoon. We seemed to have caught up on nine years worth of news in half an hour as we babbled, ten to the dozen, talking over ourselves.

No-one seemed to have changed very much. When we finally abandoned the craft market, accepting that our reunion was far too exciting to be distracted from, we vocalised this and laughed about it as we sat around and drank tea. No-one seemed to have aged at all. I think the only noticeable difference might have been that we had chosen a café, rather than a bar, and tea, rather than something considerably more intoxicating to drink.

Of course, a lot had actually changed, circumstantially. Some of us had partners now, and some of us had children. We had responsibilities and had made progress towards achieving what we set out for all those years ago. We had experienced loss and pain and joy and new beginnings and thousands of new sights and sounds and places between then and now. But all this was forgotten as we giggled over the times we’d shared at the beginnings of our adulthood.

We pieced together chronologies of people who had been a part of us based on chance meetings and hear say. And there was a kind of mourning for those who had burnt their bridges and seemed to have disappeared without a trace.

Briefly we were eighteen, nineteen, twenty again. The smiling wide eyed sisterhood was resurrected around our table.

As we parted ways and vowed to keep in touch it seemed as if our friendship might operate as it had before…..although an inner wisdom that belied the outward unchangedness we had laughed about, acknowledged, lovingly, that it was more than likely we would drift back to our lives and away from each other. Perhaps meeting again in another nine years.

12 comments:

Rhet said...

What though the radiance
which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass,
of glory in the flower,
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind....

William Wordsworth

Northern Creative said...

awwww....

Rhet said...

I's a charmer!
Beware!

Reunions are always bitter-sweet. And you can never go back.

Rhet said...

Thanks for the visit.

We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind....


New post soon?
I do really hate people who have a life outside of the blog world.

Rhet said...

Like, do we have to wait for your next reunion before we get a new post?
Sheesh!
In case you might be wondering why I sully your fine comments facility with my sordid, seedy and untoward self, it is because I am enamoured with your avatar

Northern Creative said...

i'm glad you like my avatar. thanks.

No, you won't have to wait until the next reunion but unless you want to hear about the extream boredom and frustration that i'm currently experiencing it's probably best that i wait until i've actually got a blogworthy story before i post.

Rhet said...

"...extream boredom and frustration that i'm currently experiencing..."

Well, you should be sleeping with me then!
Never boring and never frustrating. Then again, some nausea and unexplained itching have been reported of late by recent visitors. Caution!

Gary James said...

Reunions eh...the only thing worse than the thought of seeing them all again is the thought of never seeing them all again.

Sometimes I wish I had never made friends with anyone, that way I wouldn't miss them, and I'd still have all my Clash albums, but all said and done, I'd rather miss them than not know them.

Except for Tony Flick. He's just weird...

Northern Creative said...

rhet, my mum reads my blog, she has delicate sensibilities, please try to avoid upsetting her.

Gary, darn those vinyl/CD pinching friends we can't live without.

Rhet said...

Apologies M'Lady of Leeds.
I'm a colonial, we are necessarily without decorum and class.

Northern Creative said...

i forgive you. remember, we brits are repressed.

Rhet said...

Repressed?

Ha!

I've seen all Jeremy Irons movies!
I think not!

I won't even begin to think about mentioning Benny Hill.