I was unpacking some of my boxes, and first I found some graduation stuff - the Valedictory program, my class picture, my hat, all that stuff. I can't believe what a different person I was back then. I've learned so much since then.
Second I found a box full of old letters that my friends in Ottawa had sent me. I've kept every single one. Most of them are from Julia and Alice, but there are a few from Jenna and Rachel (she moved away to Jordan, close to Kenya).
I remember those girls so well. Mostly, though, I found my thoughts drifting to Alice. I remember the very day I became friends with her. She was new, and I had noticed her on the bus (she was the last stop). Then I learned that she was in my class. I remember looking over at her and noticing that she was different - and that I wanted to be friends with her. So that afternoon when got back on the bus, I grabbed her and asked her to sit with me. Ever since then we were friends.
Alice was from Israel. She and her family had come over for one reason or another. They brought their grandma as well, who spoke absolutely no english. We all referred to her as "Babushka", grandmother in Russian. And when I went back to visit, her grandmother and I had a lot of unspoken conversation - smiles, winks, hugs. For pictures she put her arm around my shoulders. She remembered and loved me.
I wonder if she's still alive.
Alice was extremely talented. She was a fantastic artist. But one thing I noticed was that she was concerned about her weight. I met her in grade three. One of her biggest worries was that she was fat (she was not fat). I didn't even realize that how you look mattered till grade six, when I moved to Vancouver.
I haven't thought of those girls in ages. But now I really would love to know what they're up to. I found Alice's old phone number - I wonder if she still lives in the same house? I'm going to give it a call sometime soon, and see if she is. Now that email is much more common, we could spark up a friendship again. And now that Dad lives and works in Ottawa, I could potentially see them this year.
Remembering old times is bittersweet. It's great to think of them, but it's really hard to think that it's all over. I remember so many moments. But my strongest memory was how much I loved all of them.
I wish I could go back...
posted by Lisa @ 12:54 PM
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