To Gerry 5/4/45 to 4/10/19
This poem was written six years ago after the death of a dear childhood friend. Years accumulated without contact between us. In her final months, she reached out to me, a tender reminder of the bond we formed over sixty years before as twelve-year-old girls. Our families both relocated to Bellevue, Washington the summer before our 7th grade year at school; hers from Oregon, mine from Kansas. We were the newbies so naturally clung to each other as we learned how to navigate a new school and integrate into a new community of teens. She will always be a happy memory. Today is her birthday – Happy Birthday, Gerry.
Death nudged me today.
Just to say, Remember
I will be your escort one day.
She was a friend of childhood,
A bosom buddy in a mutable time.
We were close, two coats of paint.
Teen dances at the gym
Girlhood angst
Secrets whispered and shared
A rambunctious orb of energy
Her infectious laugh
Reached the corners of my preteen world
She, the adventurer
I, the eager sidekick
Exploring adolescence together
A blueberry summer, picking for money
Her buckets overflowed, mine barely topped
She reaped a summer salary, I lasted two days
Blessed with natural athleticism,
She excelled in gymnastic maneuvers.
My feet refused to leave the ground.
An enthusiastic cheerleader, she leaped
My leaps fell short, I tried
My place in the bleachers assured
By high school, our paths diverged
Friendship, a shadow
Not gone, just faded
Our last summer together after school
She led the way, I followed
Clerks at an insurance agency
She married, I married
She had a baby, I had a baby
Then two, and one extra for me
Ambitious and motivated
She had her own business.
I focused on three children.
Our contact was sparse
Never completely closing the gap
To reclaim friendship
She moved, I moved
She divorced, I didn’t
The contours of our lives unaligned
She moved to the desert, Las Vegas
I moved to the desert, Tucson
No contact for decades.
She reached out
A year ago, email
Stage 4 cancer was the verdict.
I sent prayers, encouragement,
Cards and emails for months.
She died.
The phantom of our friendship
Rests in my heart.
I see her smile, her laugh an echo.
It will be my turn someday
To dance with death.
Again, she led the way.