I opened my Facebook account and scrolled to this question: “do you remember your best friend from high school?” That was a writer’s prompt if ever I heard one. Childhood friends were sometimes hard-won for a quiet, studious wallflower. I still remember my earlier classmates from grade school. I have a class picture from Grade 1, with my teacher Mrs. Armstrong standing guard. I examine the faces gazing at the camera with rigid concentration and I can give names to most of them.
Glenda was one of the smaller ones in the front row. I have known her most of my life, although her family moved away when we were in Grade 4. We attended Sunday school and vacation Bible school together from my earliest memories. We wrote letters for a few years, keeping in touch before computer access snatched away the personal element. We are still Facebook friends, although I haven’t seen her in a while.
When we are together we can pick up any topic and run with it. We have so many connections: roots, faith and treasured moments.
Joanne moved into our community from the Cremona area. Her family rented a farm closer to Bergen but she rode on our school bus. She was behind me a grade but we met often in the playground. She also attended the same church and spent time at our kitchen table and in our games.
Joanne eventually moved to Ontario. Both Carol and I lost touch with her after a few letters and phone calls. She loved the moments spent at our house, the discipline and structured guidance. She was spontaneous, boisterous and independent; all qualities I did not possess nor did I understand.
I became aware of Irene in Grade 3 I think. We weren’t in the same class until a few years later. She kept to the sidelines and rarely made eye contact. She was very reluctant to respond when I tried for friendliness. Over the years we did become friends and into junior high she began to telephone for occasional help with her homework.
I have photos of Irene at my wedding. She drove the long road to Peace River to visit. She shared in the lives of my children at sporadic intervals. I think I could reconstruct some of our conversations in my sunny dining room as she cuddled my toddler.
We had a recent phone chat after her younger sister passed away. Because we’ve known each other so long, we have many shared concerns and feel the pain.
I met Elaine when she was about five years old. Our dads had met on some work site. Hector was very charismatic. He revelled in conversation and song. Our folks remained friends their entire lives. Elaine moved away after only a few years. We missed her bubbly giggle and her rare ability at the piano, learned as a toddler.
She re-entered my life when my mom sent some of my columns to her folks, who were by then relocated to Hedley, B.C. She and I used to write together as youngsters, short stories, poems and silly ditties when I spent time at her house in Westward Ho. I wrote until my skinny wrists ached!
She is a Facebook contact. She no longer sends me her longed for brief letters, dashed off and posted in haste as she rushed through life. I’m glad I saved them. She has become an artist and a gifted photographer and assures me that she still has that giggle.
We moved to Olds when I entered Grade 11, Carol Grade 12. It was a tough transition for us. I recognized a few kids, some who had been in the Sundre school in the early years.
From my experiences of reaching out to the overlooked, I knew what loneliness looked like. I decided to be the one to take the first step. I met several quiet girls, like myself who fled from class to class, clutching our books and skirting around the clusters of laughing friends. Bev and I often ate our lunches together that first year and strolled outside at break time. Linda always gave me a warm hello before class and asked me how I was doing.
I first met Patty in youth group at church. She worked with the little ones so we rarely shared the same Sunday school class. Her warm welcoming laugh was all-inclusive, easing me into my new life.
We still meet from time to time, although it is more likely on a long phone chat as we get caught up, reconnect and share our lives. That is how friendship began and that is how it remains a part of my life.
- Joyce Hoey is a longtime Gazette columnist
