This is the story of Krippy and Nettie. From the first day of classes and comps, to weddings and wanderings, Manhattan to Maine, playing hookey or playing hockey, we're still somehow these silly girls -- just trapped in older, greyer, more jaded versions of ourselves.
Love you Krippy! Lots and Lots!
2/3rds of the Trio on the Quad in two shots.
Dear Auntie Nettie,
When I got your request for a post for your “40 Diamonds for 40” celebration, I immediately said YES. Of course life with four kids means that things take me longer to get to these days and so I’m a little belated in getting this post to you. I used to be so prompt with things, so I hope you forgive me yet again for my lateness.Next to my roommate and neighbors in Spellman Hall, you were my first friend in college. I distinctly remember you yanking my seat closer to yours that first class with Dr. P. and we both looked (rather horrifiedly) at each other, wondering what we got ourselves into. That was September 1990. I’m not sure either of us knew that day that in February 2012 we’d still be friends. We were both trying to figure out if we were going to survive English I (Beowulf, Canterbury Tales and others tried to take us down, but we did survive).
It turned out that besides our given choice for college major, we had another common interest~music. We spent many, many days on stage over the course of our four years in that small college in Westchester County, acting like idiots with Jane (who can forget our "tribute" to Martinu and some rather ridiculous dances we created when we were supposed to be rehearsing). The Trio Non Sacra was born out of our love for each other and music and I truly miss those days. It’s hard to believe we last played together in 1994, the night before graduation, for our entire graduating class. Sometimes I think of those days and truly cannot believe it’s been that long, because it feels like yesterday.
[Krippy and Doug at graduation '94; Krippy on the beach before her wedding; Wedding morning; most of the wedding party; first dance]
Life since 1994 has seen you staying in NY and me moving to Boston, then back home to Maine. 1998 brought you back twice, once for my bridal shower in the absolute pouring rain (somewhere I have a picture of you and Amy trying to load the truck in my parents’ driveway and you look like drowned rats; be glad I couldn’t find it) and then again when you were my beautiful maid of honor (not horror as you insisted on saying) on September 26, 1998. Can you believe it’s been almost 14 years since that day? Time has flown.[I also made it up to Maine for Krippy's baby shower for her oldest, Megan, and then about six months later to meet Ms. Meggie. See below.]
Our visits to each other have stretched out, becoming longer than I think we’d both like. We have our own lives now, not as connected as they once were by English classes and notebooks in the library where we wrote silly notes about lollypops and Gonzo and ghosts in the stacks. We’ve both walked away a bit from the music we once loved, although you get to experience it through the students at the Big J and I get to relive moments through my Meg. We do both still love our books; the real deal, not e-readers, but books with dust and history. Our love of libraries runs deep to this day, even though neither of us works in one now. We stay connected with our blogs a bit and through those 140 characters on Twitter and you send me wonderful postcards with tropical places we could visit, someday. I should figure out my Skype login so we can chat face-to-face; that would be so much better than squeezing in love through 140 characters. Remember when we used to send real letters, long ones that spilled the details of our lives on real paper with real stamps? I think somewhere in boxes in my basement I still have yours.
We’ve been friends for almost 22 years. We seen our 20s and 30s come and go with births, deaths, emails, real mail, cell phones, packages in the mail, long silences. I don’t believe those silences has ever been anything other than busy lives getting the best of us. I’m pretty sure you told me 2012 is the year of travel, so we WILL see each other this year. I won’t allow my crazy life (oh and it’s crazy for certain) to get in the way of that, since our last visit in 2009 was too short and too long ago. We can celebrate our 40th birthdays together. You’ll be required to bring that silly sheet of paper I signed a hundred years ago that talks about how we should just be happy with who we are and how we look (was that it? Was I ranting about plastic surgery that day?) and I’ll sign it again. Because you and I have always loved each other for who we are, two girls from quiet lives who met that fateful day in English I. I cannot imagine my life without you in it.
Happy 40th birthday my dear Auntie Nettie. I love you.