Monday, January 10, 2011

There's a New York State in My Mind

It was an early April morning of last year as I began to ready myself for the day of work. I had already had my coffee, read a couple of sections of last weekend’s newspaper, and opened my computer for the first time for the day. I checked my email as I do every day, and, as my oldest son suggests, checked in for my daily Face book update. It is unusual for me to have a message on Face book, since it is not my main source of communication, so when I saw that I had a message it was a bit surprising to me.

The sender was Louise Watnik Mattingly. “Are you the Amy Block from Rego Park?” it said.

As I reread the name on the message I could feel the warmth flow through my body. It was a familiar name for me. Louise Watnik was an old school friend of mine from early elementary years while living in New York.

I responded, “Yes. That’s me! Are you Louise Watnik who lived on Queens Blvd next to the Jewish Community Centre?”

The initial contact brought on by that first message lead to a quick barrage of communication. Within 24 hours of my response to Louise, I began to receive messages from many of my old childhood friends.

“Oh my God! Orith Ben-Dor is contacting me. Orith my across the street buddy with whom I spent many experimental episodes and hung out with in Central Park” or “Jill Abramson! This is amazing…. Jill Abramson was one of my two buddies with whom I followed the Grateful Dead and persued my way to higher thinking!”

My husband Paul quietly smirked and rolled his eyes as the onslaught of communication began and people from my past began to drop in to my life. He had never really seen me like this. He had never heard me speak about my childhood. Childhood for me was so far away, generally a painful subject, and up until recently, insignificant and irrelevant in the context of my present life. I never realized the impact of those early relationships. I never noticed their absence and I never realized the importance the relationships held for myself, or, for that matter, to my friends. I never knew how much they missed me. I had never thought of myself as that noticeable.

Lori Ratner, I thought. She was the one who showed me the way to the tracks of the Long Island Island where we would secretly smoke our Marlboro cigarettes. And Serena who lived on the second floor of the apartment building where I lived on the fifth! Each face or name held a memory. Each person was a part of my past.

“I found her! I found her! I found Amy!!!” “Do you mean our Amy?” read the messages result from my connections. “Yes! Our Amy” She lives in Canada! She’s coming to New York to meet us all!”

That first reunion was fraught with turning pages from photo albums, reading through my letters written on aerogram stationary from Israel to my friends here, reviewing class newsletters with samples of our own poetry and prose from grade 6 and checking out yearbooks of familiar (and unfamiliar) faces. That initial reunion was as exciting as seeing my first Broadway musical.

Since then, we have gathered several times. We’ve spent whole weekends in Orith’s house at the Hamptons, cooking, drinking, talking and just hanging out together. We’ve met in the city for theatre and dinner. Or we’ve grabbed a quick drink and bite to eat as I pass through the New York area.

Each time is memorable! And I share a powerful connection with these women. Nine of us in all, and except for myself in Toronto, and Gerry in San Francisco, all still live in the New York area. We just like being together, and share a “whole lotta love”. Perhaps it’s something primal; a revisit to my childhood, and reminder of the naivety of our behaviours and a flash back to the impulsiveness of how we were then. Larry says there is nothing like those ‘firsts’ shared with friends. Secrets of our ‘first’ romance, perhaps the ‘first’ experiment with substances. Maybe it’s the reliance on one another through adolescent traumas that occur naturally. Or maybe the emotional bonds that grow as we share the unexpected, like the death of a parent or separation or divorce. They know me like no other knows me! It’s even a bit primal.

Last night’s potluck at Orith and Larry’s penthouse in New Jersey apartment was fantastic! We all, (including the men) loved being together high above the Hudson River overlooking the New York and New Jersey skylines. Food was plentiful and delicious. The energy was easy and joyful. We shared much talking and laughing and hugging and kissing. What a joy to blend my worlds together!

Our gatherings happen only occasionally, and each time, they are filled with a unique energy. I’ve tried to understand it. And usually I just give in to it.

I know I am deeply blessed. We have a “A whole lotta love” together! Thank you girlfriends!!!!

No comments:

Post a Comment