Fractured Facade

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Wednesday, January 2, 2013

My Favorite Gift

I started off the new year the best way...with a phone call from a high school friend. I haven't spoken to Irene in a while, but I knew who she was at the first hello. From that point on, it was like we had just hung out yesterday. That's the beauty of being a Brooklyn-bred girl, the passage of time has little do with the original friendship bond. No matter how many years pass between us, no time has passed at all.

It doesn't matter that we've both been divorced a couple of times, had some kids, moved from New York to different states -- she Jersey, me Virginia -- and lost our girlie figures. Once two friends from Brooklyn reconnect, it's like we've stood still in time. Irene and I are still the seniors in New Utrecht High School,  only now we have grown-up problems, not boy problems.

After we "tsked tsked" about our and our loved ones various poor medical conditions, we came to the "what are you doing now?" stage. When I told her I had published two books, she asked if one of them was my Shoe Story. "My Shoe Story? "Yea, the story you said you were going to write for a children's book. I loved that story. You used to tell me it all the time."

Every now and then I get bits and flashes of past ideas, but my memory is pretty much fried. I have to depend on the kindness of others to fill in the gaping holes of my past. Sometimes, it's not pretty. Anyway, as my friend filled me in on the details of My Shoe Story, I suddenly remembered it. Holy shit, how could I have forgotten it? It is a great story.

Maybe I'll see Irene the next time I'm in Brooklyn when she's also there looking in on her mom. I hope so. We could reminisce about the time we were on the bike path near the Verrazano Bridge and stumbled upon the Saturday Night Fever shoot. How silly we acted as we tried to get into the shot. Whose idea was it to jump the benches? Probably mine.

And, I really want to thank and hug her for remembering My Shoe Story. What a great gift. No offense to anyone who reads this, and who gave me a gift, but, this was my favorite one.

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