Playing Fair and Being Kind

I feel like a motherless child. Sometimes I feel like a motherless child, a long, long way from home. I’m getting closer to home as each day passes. Heretofore, I’ve felt like my past was the way back but just now as I listen to Odetta sing I reckon the way home is just ahead.

Today I discovered another childhood friend is gone. I feel abandoned by this person. She found me about fifteen years ago. We had a sweet reunion. She drove up from Boston where we had always known each other and where she had made a lovely life for herself and her husband. He is still alive. We’ve not met, although he answered the phone the once or twice I called Anna. I read her obituary today.  I read it more than once; maybe half a dozen times.

Anna found me here in Maine and decided to drive up with a neighbor friend and have lunch with me. We met a few times at her office on other times. She worked as an attorney at the ‘Tip’ O’neil building in Boston. Government Center. Her office was large and she was in a powerful position. Her husband, Charlie, rubbed elbows with the Kennedy’s. He was a successful advance man and fixer for the clan during election years. He was up to his ass in politics in Boston and Massachusetts. The same time he was arranging lunches and dinners at Locke-Ober I was in a submarine for a few months at a time off the coast of Norway keeping an eye on Ivan and the evil empire. I was having more fun than Charlie, I’m sure.

One visit from Anna caused me some consternation. She and I were sitting at a table during a lunch, I believe, and she dropped a question to me if I remembered the time I teased her in the school yard about her flat chest. I didn’t remember. The scene wasn’t familiar at all. I have a good memory and this story rang no bells. I told her that I would never say something like that. It was too hurtful to taunt someone about their appearance, I said. At this time, Anna was not flat chested. She was very curvy and lovely all at once. We never talked about it again. Until later, that is.

Over the next few months I played Anna’s comments about the school yard incident over and over to myself . I began to remember bits and pieces. Finally, I remebered the whole picture. We kids were playing squash ball and one boy on our team hit the ball with his fist hard right at Anna. The ball hit her in the chest and nearly knocked her over. We all laughed but I puctuated the injury with a rude comment about that was why her chest was so flat. I did say it and I was embarrassed with my memory of that comment. It was hurtful. Later I found the moment to admit to Anna my guilt and I apologized. She seemed satisfied with the revelation.

We continued to visit, without Charlie’s knowledge, for about a year. Anna had old photos of our elementary school classes and middle school photos. She would bring them to Maine to show me. We had wonderful times remembering those early childhood years. When we were children and into our teens, Anna was always a good friend to me. We were both quiet and shy but I found comfort in her presence. I suspect she found the same in me. Now she is gone. She was 79 when she died. From what I gathered from her obituary she had Alzheimer’s disease. I spent a few hours in deep mourning. I spent the day indoors and I didn’t get dressed until the evening.

I think I was in love with Anna. She went to Boston College and Law School. I joined the Navy  after four miserable years of high school. We were a lot different in that respect. She had a comfortable life. She and Charlie were married for 55 years and they were in a socioeconomic strata I will never experience. Out of my league. Still we had a few months of visits later in life. Good bye, Anna. Thank you for the visits and all.

G. M. Goodwin
5 May 2019