Today, a little girl had her first play date. It was like watching her blossom into a big girl like this little crocus that finally bloomed in our garden. It was a little girl in my twins' homeroom. They were invited to her house for pizza, decorating cupcakes and a movie. The mom was nervous, and the little girl was so excited. Her enthusiasm was contagious and reminded me that friends really do make the world more manageable.
I have a special place in my heart for this little one. She may seem overbearing, and completely in your face, but she has a heart that she wears on her sleeve and she will be the one marginalized if she does not learn how to have friends. I say this not to be mean, but as a parent of a child who has social awkwardness, it is something that I have observed and hope she never realizes that road that she is standing at the top of. I think that she will be ok at the end of the day though because she is engaging and fun and funny. I hope she never learns how to lasso her spirit, because her spirit is just what this world needs.
A doctor recently told me that kids in the 1970s were praised for being different. However, in this lovely day and age, society and perhaps, more importantly, the American education system wants children to perform according to certain parameters that render the outcoming child more likely to be the same type of performer as the next. Now, I am not saying that I agree with this prognosis. That is one sad society we are living in if it is true. That said, I can see in this current life of over scheduled children and the need to get your child into Harvard at age 5, what the doctor was saying to me.
I remember, not too long ago -I hope-, when being a kid meant running around the neighborhood with the kids. Parents coordinated their supper times and we were all called in when the next door neighbor boomed her boys' names. I can still hear her now, "James! Joseph! Supper! Now!" I don't think she ever needed to call them twice. The whole gaggle of us came running to our respective doors within seconds. We lived in a small valley and her voice carried to all the nether regions of our neighborhood. We were out there mostly unsupervised, doing a scary thing: playing.
We slayed dragons, climbed trees, rode our bikes down a very, very steep hill without any hands, we hiked the woods, played in a brook, got messy, took potty breaks amongst the trees, saw pictures in the clouds, made secret clubs and kept the secrets. We bought ice cream from the ice cream truck. We took our 25 cents and were able to buy a whole chocolate bar, even if it meant defying our parents and crossing the big, busy main street. We rode our bikes for hours and didn't complain about the hard work: it was our independence. We played flashlight tag until the fireflies came out and not one kid ever found me in my super secret hiding spot on the front lawn of my parents' house (I curled around a tree trunk). We had neighborhood parties. Parents never seemed to worry about us because they knew that the older kids took care of the annoying little kids. Then something happened, maybe it was computers, maybe it was Atari, whatever it was, the kids that came after us, did not have the same great experience. But more than an experience, we had great friends - life's treasure.
As I have been navigating this thing called life, I have at times realized that I tend to be a great friend in the moment, but then life gets in the way (and usually a move across state borders) and slowly those friendships fade to memories. With the dawning of Facebook (the electronic version) I have been happily reacquainted with some of the best people I have had the pleasure of knowing. In a Utopian world, I would be able to take all these wonderful souls that have enriched and that are enriching my life to a special city, where we can have parties and hang out. We can take long meandering walks. We can talk and listen - that is important. We can continue to be a part of each other's lives and we can remember all the great reasons we became friends. I firmly believe that all people that cross our paths are there for a reason. Sometimes for a short period of time and sometimes for our lifetimes.
Here's a song for all my friends. Every, single one of you has meant the world to me in more ways than you can ever know.
No comments:
Post a Comment