My Friend Emma

 

When I was a little girl, I had a special friend, Emma. She lived across the street.  We did everything together. When I was in second grade we both got Terri Lee dolls complete with trunks of matching doll clothes our mothers had hand sewn for us. One Easter we got "twin" Cocker Spaniel puppies from the same litter. Even though she was two years older than I, our friendship endured and strengthened through junior high and high school. The year she graduated from high school  I moved away from the small West Texas town where we grew up. Then she got married and I got involved in my new high school.

While I was attending TCU, she and her husband moved to Arlington and we were frequently together again. When she had her only son, Kyle, I felt like an aunt. We both got  busy with our lives but we managed to keep in touch by phone and letters (no Internet then). As the years went by the frequency of our communication lessened but we ALWAYS talked at least twice a year. She called me on my birthday and I called her on hers. This went on for over 40 years.

  Then one year I didn't get my birthday call. I didn't worry thinking maybe she just forgot. I said to myself that I'd call her soon. "Soon" didn't come and two or three years went by. When I finally decided to call, her phone was no longer in service. I began an Internet search for her. After about 30 minutes, I located her death certificate.  After I went to bed that night I shed silent tears for the loss of my friend Emma. These were tears of sorrow and regret. It hurts to know that she's no longer there.  I feel so sad that I got "too busy" to keep in touch with her.

Tomorrow (April 25) is Emma's birthday.  If  you have an old friend that you've gotten out of touch with, please take a few minutes out of your busy life to get in touch with him/her today or tomorrow. Say, "I love you," or "I think of you often," and "You are important to me." Do this in honor of Emma's and my friendship.  Happy birthday to you, my dear friend, Emma.

Afterword:  I first published this as a note on my Facebook page over a year ago.  I revised it some to post here in honor of what would be her 72nd birthday.  I think this is an appropriate forum for it.   I hope that it will encourage  you to contact an old friend.  If you do, please post information about it in the comments section below.  I'd love to see dozens of comments, but even only a couple would be rewarding. Thanks for reading.  CMU

Almost Seventy

This afternoon as I walked out of Walgreen's, I saw an old man wearing blue coveralls at the Redbox getting a DVD.  I gave him a second look and thought, "He's cute."  As I got in my car and maneuvered my way into the school's-out traffic on FM2100, a feeling of utter surprise washed over me.  "OMG, Carolyn!  You just looked at an old man wearing blue coveralls and thought he was cute!  What has happened?"  Wasn't it just the other day that a teenaged me was looking at high school boys.  How did those high school boys turn into old men wearing blue coveralls so quickly!

A couple or three years ago, my friend Alex, who is fifteen days younger than I and never lets me forget it, said to me, "For God's sake, Carolyn.  You're almost seventy."  I don't even remember what action or statement of mine provoked that comment. but I do remember my response.  I told her that she could be "almost seventy" if she wanted to, but I was not yet that old.  Well, I guess I have to own up to it.  Now  I AM almost seventy.

As I drove on home from Walgreen's I pondered that fact and I decided that it's not so bad to be almost seventy.  It's surprising to me the number of friends I made independent of high school or college who were also born in 1941.  A couple of them have already turned seventy this year.  Both seem very proud of that accomplishment.

Demographers have had a difficult time categorizing those of us who were born in 1941.  We can't really be called "depression babies" as the nation had begun to climb out of the Great Depression by the time we were born.  We also aren't "war babies" because the vast majority of us were born prior to our entry into WWII in December 1941.  The largest demographic group of all time, the "Baby Boomers," didn't begin to come along until after the war in 1946 or 1947.

So here we are: part of a small demographic group born between say 1938 or 1939 and 1941 or 1942.  We ushered in Elvis, Rock and Roll and American Bandstand in the 1950s  Television sets invaded most of our living rooms before we graduated high school.  We sat in our backyards on cold, dark nights to watch Sputnik traverse the sky.   Our fathers and big brothers fought in WWII and Korea.  Many didn't come home.  Many of us fought in Vietnam and a lot of us didn't come home either. Hardly anybody thanked us for that. We marched in the Civil Rights Movement and demonstrated for the Equal Rights Amendment. We've been to our 50th high school reunions and felt and acted like kids again.  Throughout our lives we have broken ground and paved the way for the Baby Boomers who follow us.

Back in the 1970s I heard us referred to as the "do nothing generation."  I resented that term at the time and I resent it to this day.  Finally, about 2003, I heard us identified as "the Elders."  "Great!" I thought.  They finally got around to giving us a name and it's really not very complimentary.  Then I heard an explanation.  The demographers in their wisdom have decided to lump us in with those fathers and brothers who fought in WWII and say that we are at  the tail-end of "The Greatest Generation."  I don't know about all of my "Elder" friends, but I think that's just fine!  To my mind, there couldn't be a better bunch in all of history to rub our demographic elbows with.

So here's to you Baby Boomers and Generation Xers and Yers and whoever else is coming along!  We're still paving the way for you.  And here's to all you cute old men in blue coveralls!  We ain't dead yet, are we?  So being almost seventy isn't bad at all.