How My Life Changed
by Iris L. Kitching
It seems like yesterday that I was an innocent little kid making mudpies with my best friend Doris. I was 4 years old and Doris 3. We lived across the street from each other, and spent many days playing together. Those were fun years! We didn’t have a care in the world except to get up the next day and have another happy go lucky day. How did those years go by so quickly?
As the years passed we continued to play together: dressing our dolls, enjoying hopscotch, jumprope, and ‘Mother May I’, or running up and down the streets with other friends, as all kids do. We built go carts from old bicycle tires, wooden crates, and scrap wood and rode them, even racing through the streets sometimes. Imagine that, especially by today’s motorized kid vehicles. How would any child nowadays know how to make a go-cart?
When we were a little older we rode bicycles through the city streets, played softball in our neighborhood park, and went sledding on steep hills for hours on end. What fun we had, eventually heading home with almost frostbitten fingers and toes although we had hats and gloves,double pairs of socks, and boots. We wore no helmets like kids nowadays do! How did we survive to our teenage years without helmets being regulated?
As teenagers we walked a block or two to the mom and pop stores to get snacks and took our time walking back home. Groups of us usually hung around outside our homes during the day, laughing and talking until the lights came on, which meant get home now or else. No neighbors told us to get away or go home. They were often on their porches watching us and on rare occasion playing with us. When birthdays came around, we went to parties — real play the music and dance parties — at our friends’ houses, with adult supervision of course. How did our parents trust us not to get into trouble or trust all the folks roaming through the neighborhood (or the neighbors for that matter) not to harm us?
In our 20’s, 30s, and early 40s, contact between Doris and I was minimal. I lived 4 hours away, we were both married and had sons. But whenever we talked on the phone it was like we had never missed one day. Our friendship was strong and we chuckled about our childhood years. Several times a year I’d visit my mom and brothers in my hometown. Naturally I’d go see Doris and our sons would play while we chatted for hours. Later, I had two more children and they’d be at Doris’ as well while we briefly caught up on all that was happening with us. We never had arguments, or jealousy, or rivalry. We were simply two friends for life. We loved spending time together. How did we let so much time pass before connecting?
That would change, I vowed. I told Doris I would travel every few months, just me, so we could hang out together. We balanced each other through the ups and downs of life, even from afar. She liked the idea of me visiting more often very much! Before I left she gave me the biggest hug ever! She almost choked me! If I had known that would be the last time I’d see her, I would have held on tight and told her how much I loved her and valued our friendship. But I didn’t know. A week after my trip, she had a massive stroke and died 2 days later. How could I lose my friend at the age of 43? How?
It’s been 24 years. It’s hard to imagine it has been that long. And I still miss her. I long for special times together, silly stories, giving and getting advice, going to our favorite pizza shop — because there’s no pizza like New York pizza! There’s so much I would share with her, if I could. Oh how I miss her! Her friendship was the best ever. You should have a friend like Doris in your life, too. “How so?” you ask. Be genuine, be yourself, laugh a lot, and enjoy!
This is my post for Day 24 of the 30 Day Writing Challenge for the Speak Write Now Community.
