Tell the tale of a long lost friend....found. (Part I)

     The year was 1984.  Sixth grade.  Not always such an easy time in school.  You are all changing from goofball kids to something that comes next...something I can't really define.  Home life wasn't such a peach that year either.  I enjoyed school for the most part despite the rough year I had prior with the world's worst teacher.  I spent a week at home sicker than a dog.  I still remember that Monday morning and the feeling of desperation to stay at home some more.  It was a funny feeling but whenever I was sick I was usually overwhelmed at the thought of going back.  It was safe at home.  Safe from the ever growing mean girls and the pushy boys that were starting to really bug me.
     I went back.  I had a new seat.  A seat next to a boy named John.  He had always been around but in a different homeroom.  We were in most of the same groups because of our reading and math levels and had even taken a few guitar lessons together...but never really connected.  He lived a few blocks down from me which to a Bronx kid was a whole other world.  We were divided into what felt like countries at times.  I swear some even had borders and "welcome to..." signs.
      It didn't take long to realize I had been missing a good pal with all of those years of neglect.  He was hysterically funny and bright...really bright... and someone that I loved having on my team when we had all of those rounds of Trivial Pursuit.  He also got me.  He listened as I ranted about various things that I held important...ya know, like how many songs had colors in the lyrics (Karma Chameleon was a winner) and other odd little ditties.  For some reason he was one of the few people I felt comfortable around.  No matter what strange facts popped out of my ever moving mouth...he stayed and listened.  He was kind and safe and funny when no others really were.  He was in his own group of one when other boys needed to be dodged.  As I began to look at him as a safe place to grow into the me that I was becoming I had no idea of the impact I was having on his life as well.  His home life wasn't so peachy either.  Two little goofballs making each other laugh...we had no idea how we were saving each other in so many other (bigger) ways.  My mother (who couldn't stand any guy I brought home) constantly pushed me to look at him in a different way.  I just never did.  She saw the potential I guess.
     This friendship continued for years until he moved away.  Die hard pen pals we stayed in touch despite the move to neverland.  We would visit from time to time through high school and maybe make an occasional phone call but it was just never the same.  One thing remained though...a bond....unique and strong.  I invited him to my "high school graduation/say goodbye bc we are moving" party.  He came.  It was like no time had ever passed.  We could jump right back into conversations complete with ramblings and excitement like no others.  We said goodbye as I did to many people that night.  Would I still get postcards and letters and Christmas cards?  The answer is no.  We parted that day in June and were nothing but a dear memory to one another.  For years.  Decades.
     For some strange reason I joined Classmates for a bit and was lucky to find some dear old friends.  It put me back in touch with grown women who were just mere teenagers when I last saw them.  We had families and children and careers and it was fun to catch up here and there about our long lost lives.  When I saw his name as a new member my heart jumped in my chest.  My dear sweet friend...could it be?  It was.  The two goofball teenagers that wrote letters about music, travels and family became pen pals once again.  This time we used no paper or envelopes but words on a computer screen.  Emails proved that no chunk of time nor years of separation could keep two silly little kids down.  We spent weeks discussing the old neighborhood and the school.  We discussed teachers and the theories that went with them.   He is a teacher now in the very same neighborhood where we grew up.  I have a teaching degree as well...so LOTS and LOTS of teacher stories.  We discussed everything from all of the special ed students he had to how different the old neighborhood is now.  We caught up on the professional aspects of our lives.  Then we caught up on the old friends we used to know (even went to a reunion that put us all under the same roof after twenty years).  As we started to trace the steps of our youth we realized that the two smiling idiots in grade school were so much more than buddies.  He was my "sweater"...a safe and warm place when things everywhere else seemed to be cold and falling apart.  I was his "sunshine" in a world full of darkness.  All that time we never knew the full extent to what we were to one another.  We didn't know much about the parts of your family you don't share.  All these years later and we finally thanked one another for being the hand that pulled us out of the darkness.
     But as history was repeating itself we became a pocket of brightness in a world that was growing more dreary by the day.  We were laughter and jokes and giggles as the day to day sadness of adulthood was kicking in.  But as adults we added empathy, support and an honest look at life from a new perspective.  I found him to be a form of therapy.  He would listen and encourage but he also was honest and made me look at myself and the things around me.  I did the same for him.  We were an objective voice, a subtle push or a hearty nudge when needed.  I was being reminded of the things that the little eleven year old had forgotten.  We gave each other a new window with a new view on life and discovered that once again we were a the sweater and sunshine to one another that we always had been.  Stay tuned for Part II...