One of the best things I’ve done in a long while was spend time with these childhood friends. I consider myself sooooo fortunate to have attended school from Headstart through twelfth grade with many of the same people. (Headstart was a program started in 1965 for low-income kids who needed a “head start” before first grade, and we were those kids…)
There’s nothing like childhood friends—the folks we knew before we knew ourselves. We can sit together and reminisce and laugh and cry, and although we are fifty-something now, when we’re together, we are first graders. Or twelve-years-old. Or seniors in high school. Our memories have only become more vivid with age, hindsight, and a dose of humor.
We know the same places and people, and there’s a specialness to that.
We rattle off the names of all our teachers in grade order, and get teary over those who molded and forever changed us. And yes, there were a couple of teachers we wholeheartedly believe were a touch crazy. Not naming names, but those crazy ones made the journey that much more memorable.
We recall each friend’s middle name and can hear our Mommas yelling at us for something bad we did. And back then, every Momma helped raise every kid and no one thought twice about it.
“Judy Anita Baker, you get in this house right now!”
“Carrie Mae Jones, don’t you make me come in there!”
“Talya Lea Tate, I’m not gonna say it again!”
The first grade playground had gigantic concrete culverts painted red and green, and a slide with steps along the side. But we couldn’t wait to be bigger and play on the sixth grade playground across the way, separated only by an invisible boundary and age and time.
Everyone knew the key to winning the Quiet Game was being super duper still. And Doggie, Who’s Got the Bone was something the teachers let us do when they didn’t feel like teaching. The bone was an eraser, but for that time period, it was a bone.
We learned to sound-it-out and look-it-up and show-your-work.
For the most part, the cafeteria food tasted great and fish stick day was especially good because of the cheese sticks that came with it. And those homemade rolls!
We played a zillion games of dodge ball and ran bleacher laps until our sides screamed and jumped rope at recess no matter the weather.
In Home Ec, we learned we would never ever be seamstresses.
We passed notes in the hallways and in library and sometimes during math.
We got in trouble and wrote lines on page after page of notebook paper.
I will not laugh and disrupt class.
I will not laugh and disrupt class.
I will not laugh and disrupt class.
We got sent to the office and sometimes even got licks.
We rode the school bus to that big game in Brinkley and sang 99 Bottles of Beer all the way to West Memphis. When we begged Coach Graham to stop at McDonalds on the way back, he did.
We couldn’t wait for summer break and Christmas vacation and Valentine parties and snow days and homecoming game. Afterward, we couldn’t wait to see each other again.
Together, we were introduced to Shakespeare and algebra and dissecting frogs preserved in formaldehyde. We marveled over Mr. Joiner’s hair and Mr. Branch’s eyebrows because we were silly that way. How we learned anything was nothing short of a Mississippi County miracle.
We suffered the same unbearable agony when we lost that important game. Winning the spirit stick at cheerleader camp was a high point.
We learned to drive the same roads—to the levee and Island 35 and Blue Hole. How many times did we circle the Sonic?
We memorized the words to our school song and still know the cheers.
We were restless and couldn’t wait to get our “real lives” started.
Sometimes we were two-faced and argued in the bathroom, but we always made up and promised to be 2gether 4ever n ever n ever.
On a sunny day in May, we moved the red tassel from one side to the other and shook hands with the school principal and smiled for our parents and thought we’d done something significant because we had.
And just like that, our view became different.
We scattered.
Out of nowhere, time slipped away.
It would be decades later before we really discovered the importance of the days and years spent together in those hallowed halls.
Hanging out with old friends is like looking in the mirror and seeing your own reflection, hearing your own stories being replayed, being a member of your own breakfast club. You come to realize not one second of all that time spent together was wasted.
In fact, it was priceless.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
[tweetthis]Decades later we realize there’s no such thing as wasted time. #oldfriends #classmates [/tweetthis]
Musical Pairing:
Keith Urban, Wasted Time
This is so good Talya! Sometimes your writing brings tears to my eyes. Sometimes happy tears and sometimes not. My granddaughter is moving from home today so I’m extra sensitive to ‘growing up years’. To quote Dr. Suess “Oh, the places you’ll go”, and you have and she will.
Yes, I know it’s a big day for her. She will do great! Thanks for commenting.
I think our childhood friends keep us grounded. Our earliest childhood playmates are usually our cousins. A first cousin called me yesterday. She was my first ever playmate. Such a sweet surprise.
Totally priceless
Wonderful post! We do the same thing when we get together. There’s nothing like being with people who knew you when.
Some of the best days of my life are those wasted times! I cherish all my school friends and so blessed to stay in touch with them. Many of us were apart for many moons, but the second we got back in touch, it was like not a day had passed. You brought back so many memories for me, and yes I’m crying right now! Thank you for sharing your talent with us and sharing your heart as well❤️ Love you Tanya .
Every time you call me Tanya, I hear your Dad:)
The only kids whose middle names we didn’t know were the ones who never did anything bad in sight of their mothers.
Many is the time I have heard, “Gary David Henderson, get in this house NOW!” (or whatever).
🙂
Good point.
Poignant and nostalgic. Moved away from my childhood friends and don’t see them anymore. But you kindled memories of “way back when.” Thanks for the memories
Thanks Fay!
What amazing memories, Talya! Great you are all still in touch after so many years.
Blessings!
Thank you, Martha! I think it’s pretty special.
So heart-warming, wonderful, and true! I remember you and Staci as (of course, my first cousins) and first friends. You are the closet (in proximity AND age) to my age and we had many wonderful times together at Mamma Ruby and Granddaddy Homer’s house in Victoria. Ohhh…the games we’d play! The “tricks” we’d perform and our bark was always bigger than our bite and our tireless play would always induce more sleep than ‘tricks’. Those times are cherished and priceless for me. Just the simple act of walking to the store granddaddy managed was a huge treat to get a bottle of pop or a popsicle!
Barbara, I didn’t know (or have forgotten) that you had any first cousins? Refresh my memory – I know me, Gail and Ronnie are Talya’s and Staci’s only first cousins, right?
Some of my best and most faithful friends are from “home” – and are far more dependable and will be there for me before most of the friends I have made since leaving home. That says a lot about where we came from and the time we grew up and is rare in this day and age.
I know I am getting on up there in age but I still remember a few pom-pom routines we learned from cheerleading camp – in what? It had to be in the mid 70’s. WoW – I feel like I just lived through an episode of THIS IS YOUR LIFE.
Great writing once again, my friend, my cousin. Love you…..
courtneysmum
Cindy – Momma has 52 first cousins! At least I think that’s the count. Thanks for commenting. For sure, cousins are some of our best first friends.
Such a wonderful article…..I’m still that way with my school friends after fifty years and it is an incredible feeling! Nothing can bring you to tears and laughter so swiftly…..thanks, Talya, for being so good at what you do!!
Thanks Ms. June!