putting things into perspective
I was re-united with a few close friends yesterday night. We grew up together - spending many a week-end at some sort of religious function - and they represent a good portion of my teeny bopper years. It's unfortunate that over the last couple of years, we lost touch. Each one of us is now pursuing our own college goals, and some are well into "serving their time" in their desired career. I have gone as much as longer than a year with no real contact with any of them; "real" meaning i am excluding any form of communication via internet or cell phone. Recently, however, most of us in this circle of friends have all had the opportunity to hang-out.
As a result of a mutual friend/acquaintance/'uncle's' death, we were all brought together once again last night. 2 out of the 3 times we've spent with each other (within the past year) occurred because we attended wakes/services together.
While our friendship will always resume its normalities when around them - the jokes, the memories, the comfort, the understanding, the support - it's obvious that a lot has changed. The dynamic between us is different (which isn't necessarily a terrible thing); we're older and, I would hope, much more mature; conversation has (slightly) strayed away from childhood crushes and evolved into serious, deeper issues; and it seems like the only time we really ever see each other, or have time to catch up, is at a funeral service. Last night was seriously like that scene out of the First Wives Club where they receive that letter in the mail from Cynthia, and are reunited after many years of no-contact at her funeral. The notable difference is that we're women in our twenties, not thirties/forties. I guess the idea sort of shook me: we're not old, old women with families, full time jobs, etc. How is it that the only time we can make for each other is when we're arranging rides to the funeral home?
I brought this up last night and got some blank responses. It sort of added to the morbidity of the moment, so we didn't really dwell on it, but one did agree that its sad that reunions such as this one only occur when someone dies. Death, in general, is not exactly the happiest of moments. It's usually seen in a negative light, which is clearly understandable. Yet, even with these common feelings associated with it, I find that so much is put into perspective - at least for those few hours, days, weeks when people are in an odd stage with their thoughts and emotions.
Last night, I flashbacked to my parents' accident - and was shook once again. Death can take you by surprise, it can creep up on you, it can linger in your thoughts, and you'll never know exactly when you're going to go...so the logical thing to do would be to make the most of our days alive, and to make the most with people we love and relationships we value. Right? With this said and without placing blame on any party (because I probably am the most guilty one anyway), why do we wait until that dreaded phone call (which has recently happened more frequently than I'd like to think about) in order to provide a means to catch-up?
There's so much going on here, I don't even know how to end this entry.
As a result of a mutual friend/acquaintance/'uncle's' death, we were all brought together once again last night. 2 out of the 3 times we've spent with each other (within the past year) occurred because we attended wakes/services together.
While our friendship will always resume its normalities when around them - the jokes, the memories, the comfort, the understanding, the support - it's obvious that a lot has changed. The dynamic between us is different (which isn't necessarily a terrible thing); we're older and, I would hope, much more mature; conversation has (slightly) strayed away from childhood crushes and evolved into serious, deeper issues; and it seems like the only time we really ever see each other, or have time to catch up, is at a funeral service. Last night was seriously like that scene out of the First Wives Club where they receive that letter in the mail from Cynthia, and are reunited after many years of no-contact at her funeral. The notable difference is that we're women in our twenties, not thirties/forties. I guess the idea sort of shook me: we're not old, old women with families, full time jobs, etc. How is it that the only time we can make for each other is when we're arranging rides to the funeral home?
I brought this up last night and got some blank responses. It sort of added to the morbidity of the moment, so we didn't really dwell on it, but one did agree that its sad that reunions such as this one only occur when someone dies. Death, in general, is not exactly the happiest of moments. It's usually seen in a negative light, which is clearly understandable. Yet, even with these common feelings associated with it, I find that so much is put into perspective - at least for those few hours, days, weeks when people are in an odd stage with their thoughts and emotions.
Last night, I flashbacked to my parents' accident - and was shook once again. Death can take you by surprise, it can creep up on you, it can linger in your thoughts, and you'll never know exactly when you're going to go...so the logical thing to do would be to make the most of our days alive, and to make the most with people we love and relationships we value. Right? With this said and without placing blame on any party (because I probably am the most guilty one anyway), why do we wait until that dreaded phone call (which has recently happened more frequently than I'd like to think about) in order to provide a means to catch-up?
There's so much going on here, I don't even know how to end this entry.