Today is my friend Jay's birthday. He has once again caught up to my great age, which we will share until I age past him, at which time I will surely be mocked by him again for my decrepitude.
Old friends are like that. You may not have seen them for a year or four, but the rhythms of childhood and teenagehood run deep. And the banter between us is a serious business.
Jay and I have known each other all our lives,, In a small town, friendships are like osmosis. You come to know each other without any real effort. His home was a block away. His church visible from my bedroom window. And despite the differences of our denominations, we were drawn closer by an even tighter bond. Our dads were great friends. Therefore, so were we.
I didn't know what to make of the Howell boys at first. Having only a sister, they were far outside my realm of experience. Their matching crew cuts were a curiosity. In the time of David Cassidy shags and Bob Sherman helmets, their hair was buzzed right down to the scalp. And sometimes, to make things more curious, they wore matching sweaters. (If I have imagined this detail, please forgive me. The two Howell boys were two peas in a pod.)
I really got to know Jay when we started going to the same school in fourth grade. We rode the same bus, were in the same class. And we co-existed until we graduated. We actually conferred over homework, seeking or offering help on math problems or double checking assignments. He was one smart cookie. I was proud of my grades, too, but would never have had the audacity to NOT STUDY THE NIGHT BEFORE. This was assured me that he was smarter than I was.
One of our primary kindnesses to each other was to bring homework home to the other if we were sick. One day, when I was out with some virus or other, and likely in 5th or 6th grade, I opened textbook he brought me so that I could stay on task. There between the leaves was a poem. Something along these lines:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Hurry back to school.
Randy misses you!
It was on. We passed notes like that for years. Randy (Earley) was always the subject of the poems I received. And Susan Barrett was the subject of the ones I crafted for him. I don't remember actually discussing those notes out loud. They just appeared, but they were as regular as the seasons.
Jay and I had many shared experiences: Bible School and the church softball team, Hassle House and Youth Retreats, ballgames, the State Fair, and the Beta Club. We traded comic books - his were all superheroes (love Aquaman!) and mine were Archie and Richie Rich, so we got the best of both worlds. And though I suffered from the insecurity that comes from braces, and glasses and a few extra pounds, he never made me feel less than.
I was welcome in his home; I can remember the comforting smell and look of it as if it were yesterday. I snapped peas with his mom and visited his grandmother. I played football in his front yard and basketball in his backyard. And I always felt comfortable in my skin, respected and liked. And I respected and liked him. He was genuinely the brother I never had. Through Jay's friendship, I learned what it meant to be an equal to the opposite sex.
This is no minor observation. My relationship with Jay was foundational. Being able to be comfortable with first him, and then males in general, enabled me to hold my own in the male dominated workplace I experienced at IBM. It taught me to adroitly give as good as I got; always an equal, never a shrinking violet. And it helped me seek and enjoy a relationship of equals with my husband, and now with my grown sons.
And isn't that what we all want from childhood friends? Loyalty, trust, humor, kindness, and inclusion?
I don't see Jay much these days, but when something happens that I should know, even though I am outside the circle of former classmates that maintain a closer relationship, he will pick up the phone and call. To do me the honor of offering comfort as well as information. You can't get that in Messenger or a text.
So I thank you Jay, for being you. Happy Birthday, Old Man. Consider that NCSU football victory your birthday present. I'd like UNC basketball win for mine in March, when I pass you once again.
