Blast from the Past


K. wants ot be friends with you on Facebook

The message flashes in my mailbox on this cold, rainy Monday afternoon. It is a long holiday weekend and although the garden looks beautiful, the cold and damp are keeping me from enjoying it. So I checked my email.

I needed to explore my feelings about this request. K isn’t an ex-boyfriend. We met in the Advanced Beginners swim class one summer and I think we might have bonded over The Beatles, but that might have been later. We were sometimes in the thick of, sometimes on the periphery of each other’s lives from then until well into our college years. Then he was off to graduate school and I got married and moved to the Netherlands.

Not many people get the chance to start a new life like I did. People often ask me if it was difficult to leave my old life behind. It wasn’t. Most of the memories I left behind were neither happy nor worth keeping. The only friend of my youth who I consciously carried in my heart across the Atlantic was The World Traveler. I’ve learned the hard way to be cautious about which people from my past that I let into my present life.

When my mother died, my father asked me if I wanted him to put aside my highschool and college yearbooks with the footlocker I’d locked all my treasures in when I left home. I told him to put it all out for trash. Memory Lane is not one of my favorite haunts. Its been over 25 years now since I last looked into that trunk and I never cracked the spine on either yearbook; the dross and flotsam of the first half of my life.

Over the years I’d given the occasional random thought to K. Mostly its when the World Traveler and I are on our 3rd Gin and Tonic and we get giggly about what a nut K. could be. Now this Facebook friend request.

I took the little dog out for a walk when the rain let up and ruminated on memories of K. There weren’t any bad ones and most of them made me smile. Besides, I was curious. So I checked the ALLOW box on the friend request and looked at his page. None of his favorite books or music choices surprised me and I’d never tell him, but I think he looks a lot like his dad.


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