Heather S just posted on Facebook that she attended her elementary school reunion. Say what??!? I have never heard of an elementary school reunion. When I questioned her about it, she admitted this was the first reunion she'd ever gone to and that she'd actually passed up a high school gathering to do so. And it was awesome, she said.
That got me to thinking.
I've got lots and lots of friends, but only three of them qualify as long-time, dating from college days wayyyyyyy back in the 60's. That we've managed to remain in regular contact is something of a miracle.
First off, there's Jenny. I call her Chapulin, which means "grasshopper" in Spanish, and there's a reason for that. Growing up, she, her sisters and brother all had nicknames. Dolores was "Dorie," Theresa was "Tree," Danny was "June Bug" and Jenny was "Choppy." There were reasons for all those names, but memories have a way of fading, and I've forgotten--except that Dan got his, I believe, because he used to eat the critters. Choppy evolved over the years into Chapulin, and I am the only person in the world who calls her that. (Truth is, nobody calls her Choppy any more, either.)
She and I met the very first day of school at L A State. We sat next to each other in the bleachers at orientation and began a conversation that continues to this day. Not only did she adopt me, but so did her entire family. She's of Mexican and Chumash heritage, and she had a big, wonderful, boisterious, loving clan. At the time we met, she was living with her grandmother, and I can remember many, many feasts at Grandma Belle's table.
Together Jenny and I fell in love with San Francisco and now the truth can be told. Many were the Fridays we'd look at each other and say "let's go." We'd cut the last of our classes, run home, grab a few clothes, hop in Jose, her old Chevy, and in a few hours we'd be in the City by the Bay. We'd spend time with her uncle Frank, her friend Rose or just exploring the city. Sometimes we'd explore a bottle of wine or two along the way, and Jenny's aunt Cleophe would call us "borrachitas."
Finally Chapulin decided that her heart was in San Francisco, and she up and moved away. As lives do, ours went separate ways for several years. She moved up to Big Bear, in the southern California mountains, remarried and moved again to Pilot Hill in northern California. We remained in touch off and on--more off than on, unfortunately. When I tracked her down in Los Osos several years later, we caught up on each other's lives and families and have stayed close ever since.
So close, in fact, that she and her husband Jack bought my house from me when I moved up to Cascadel Woods, now over ten years ago. That house burned down in a sudden, virulent fire about 2 years ago, during which Jack and Jenny lost their three beloved pooches, Romi, Gus and Ziggy. Although the precious animals can never be replaced, the house has been rebuilt and now is truly Jack and Jenny's. They redesigned it to make it suit their tastes, and it's incredibly beautiful. Occupying space in their hearts are three new doggies, Zoe, Max and Letty.
I am so blessed to have enjoyed nearly 50 years of friendship with Jenny and half that with Jack, who is an amazingly robust 86 (87??) years of age. He is a master wood carver and has decorated both the inside and outside of their home with totems, statues, masks and other designs. Like the Energizer Bunny, he just keeps going and going and going . . .
It's hard to believe that I don't have a single photo of Jenny to post with this. Shame, shame.
Next "Friends" Installment: Betty - coming soon.
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