Thursday, November 16, 2017

Up the Winchuck River in 1973

We met so long ago. I'll never forget the day - it was a sunny afternoon early Fall, we were in, of all things, our P.E. class wearing those horrific and humiliating (lacking the perfect body) gym uniforms consisting of red one piece canvas with snaps, the shortest of shorts. You were sitting on the stage in the gym weeping distraughtly. I (always late due to the all-important "after lunch" joint hurriedly smoked across the street at the V.F.W. Hall with the usual suspects) glanced at the gym to see what had set this pretty blonde girl with the big blue eyes into such a state saw that the gym was a flurry of red rubber balls bouncing from side to side with the occasional "gotcha!!!" shouted triumphantly when the mousy shy girl smacked the flouncy cheerleader. I couldn't just walk by. I stopped and patted your blonde hair, "what's wrong Jill? what's going on???" You threw yourself into my arms shaking, "they're just so VIOLENT!!!" your sobbing continued. I held you for a few minutes and quietly spoke to you. I don't know what I said but from that moment on we were the best of friends and you immediately dubbed me "Shawna Mama." A name I wear proudly to this day. Turns out you'd taken too many cross-tops and the speed was making you extra sensitive.

Our lives intertwined with the intensity that only flows through girls in the '70's. In our friendship was your darling brother Zane whom I had named "Zany Zit" and our game was to call out down the long school hallway "Zany Zit!!!" to which he'd reply "Yes Shawna Shit????" We'd laugh raucously as though our game were genius and no one could understand how brilliant we were. We made up our own rules and ran with wild abandon through our years. The smell of nectarines still brings a smile to my face. In particular we had a beautiful "skip" day (we thought of many reasons we should skip) in which we had gone in your cute little Volkswagen beetle up the Winchuck River. We sat on the banks of the beautiful blue-green swirling waters next to that one secret spot I had found and declared to be ours and smoked. We spoke of many, many things that day and all we conversed about we perceived to be the deepest and most meaningful dialogue ever to be had. At one point we took these silver bangles I was wearing and tossed them into the sky laughing at our hilarity and at one point, it seemed as though the sparkly silver bangle stood still on a sunbeam then in slow motion floated down making a light plopping noise as it hit that delicious river. It floated for a moment then sank down to where we could see it glinting in the sun on a crag in the underwater rock. We determined that one day we would return and find that bracelet. We haven't yet.

We slowly drifted apart living our different lives all the while remaining in touch and actually writing each other long letters about it. Remember those letters? I used to love seeing your unique handwriting and the little drawings you always put all over on the envelope when you wrote. We shared our lives this way long before Facebook or Myspace or any of the social media that sucks the life out of writing these days.

You wrote me some heartbreaking news sometimes. I wished I could have protected you from those horrific experiences you had...Taiwan, up in the forest, over in Hood River...when you introduced me to Leroy I understood. This was your necessity. I always thought you were such a badass after you should me his sleek metallic body and pearl handle. I thought "no one will ever hurt my Jill AGAIN as long as she has him by her side!!!"

We reconnected for a time in Portland. It was amazing. I saw you often and we had the most beautiful days together. You and your current beau who I remember well but will remain nameless at this juncture. Memorable moment when you stood maid of honor in my wedding.

So many times we'd reconnect throughout the many years and each time it was as though we'd not separated, our love and laughter ringing out over new adventures and fun. You often thanked me for "having your children for you" and I'll thank you forever for loving my four darlings as if they were yours, and truly, they all loved you as deeply as possible. Jilly Pilly of course, your namesake, just adored your beautiful golden hair and her heart belonged to you in every sense.

I will forever be honored that you and Bob made the long trek from Brookings to Pendleton to witness when I received my Indian name. You brought with you the box of richly hued abalone which I have fortunately retained at least one. Neither you or Bob had a clue what this meant to me but the fact that you drove all the way to be there is etched in my memory like a fossilized fern on a shimmery shale rock.

I could go on for days my beautiful friend. The loss of your passing doesn't wane and as I recall the stories I'd like to share, the moments I feel like I want to send you in messages, I'm at a loss because you're not there on the other end of the line. Your life left a beautiful mark on my family. You, who passionately shared your family as mine knowing how shattered I was for all those years. Thank you for Zany Zit, thank you for Bob, thank you for big brother Rip, thank you for YOU.

I won't say goodbye. We'll meet again one day. I truly believe it.

Safe Travels my friend.

 

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