The last time I saw my friend Terri was at my wedding eleven years ago. I met her at band camp just before my freshman year of high school. We became instant friends and were close until she graduated the year before me. She married a guy about a year later and moved to a town about a half hour away. Over the years I’d occasionally run into her mother at the grocery store or the beauty salon and would receive a quick synopsis of Terri’s life. Bev would hand me her daughter’s phone number every time and would practically order me to call. I never did because I suck at keeping in touch with people.
Terri was the first person I looked up when I joined Facebook, and for the past few month’s we’ve exchanged e-mails and the occasional gifts of virtual hugs and flowers. She’s now living in the area again and we finally decided to meet for dinner last night. I picked Panera Bread because it’s one of those places Nathan and I don’t visit much anymore because it lacks an adequate toddler menu.
It was great fun catching up with Terri. I have to admit to being a little worried we wouldn’t have anything to talk about, but those worries vanished as soon as we hugged. She told me I haven’t changed a bit, which was very kind and a huge lie.
We ordered our meals, settled in a booth and brought each other up to speed on the past eleven years. She now has three children, ages 16, 15, and 14. We talked about the kids, our lives and reminisced a lot about high school. I’m normally not that sentimental about my high school years, but bringing up names of people I haven’t spoken to since graduation seemed familiar and somewhat comforting. She told me a guy I used to date is now the band director at a nearby high school and I told her a certain squatty little tuba player has grown up into a lean and attractive father of two boys named Nathan and Noah (ha!)
We called it a night after nearly two hours of talking and made promises to each other that we wouldn’t let another eleven years pass before we met again. I do believe I also committed to attending her 20th high school reunion with her next year.
I had a great time, but since any trip of mine down memory lane wouldn’t be complete without a little embarrassment, I proceeded to look up the former boyfriend now band director when I got home. I sent him an e-mail, a short and restrained piece that lacked the idiocy of the socially awkward e-mail I sent to another former classmate a few months back. I’m quite sure he’s not going to know what to make of me, but I’m kind of looking forward to hearing from him.
I'm Heather. I live in Michigan with my husband and daughter and maintain this little enterprise while working full time and attending grad school part time. Don't ask me how I do it because I really couldn't tell you.
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That really kind of inspires me. I am HORRIBLE at keeping in touch with old friends. I am quick to burn bridges. I’m so glad you had such a good time with an old friend.
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