40 Diamonds for 40: ReKonnecting with Kari

I was very fortunate to meet some of my closest friends during my undergraduate college years. Through some of the most tumultuous, life-shaping, personality-defining years, a group of ladies began to swirl out of the cosmos and settle into my orbit. I'm proud to say, most are still part of my universe of friends.

One of the more quirky celestial bodies would fly in and out of my sphere quite a bit. While there was the core group I've mentioned earlier, there was always this one bright shiny comet that I could never figure out. She'd flit in and out, and I was always a little blinded by her swift arrival and departure.

Kari was another fellow English major, so we'd find ourselves in many of the same group of classes, sharing TAs, reading lists, and study groups, plus an interest in music. While I was a pianist, Kari was once a beautiful lyric soprano, and we'd spend some time away from Chaucer and the dang Norton Anthologies hacking around in a practice room. While I'd be doing early morning shifts on the reception desks or late nights working as an activity/space coordinator, she'd either be off in theatrical productions, contemplating the mysteries of life with philosophy majors, hanging with other groups at the school that were totally foreign to me, or doing other better-to-remain-mysterious things. Some nights though, I'd be in one of my dorm rooms studying or working on a paper, and a knock would sound and she'd pop in and stay for a bit, talking, or just hanging out, or even napping (don't poke the sleeping Kari), and then she'd be off again. Here I was, this fat, shy, socially awkward girl, from the poor side of Connecticut, who didn't smoke, drink, or go to the school parties, or have a boyfriend (for some of the time), and I couldn't figure out at ALL why this thin, very outspoken, very opinionated, blond, smart, former ballerina, from Fairfield (aka the richer part of Connecticut), with the boy friends, boyfriends, and all kinds of friends, would at all want hang out with me. She says I was "amused" by her, it was more bemused and befuddled. Not wanting to scare her off, I never asked her about all this during school.

We even spent a few summers living and working on campus, so that gave us a chance to spend time together (especially the summer she had both ballet-gnarled feet cracked and reset.) I met her parents, and they kept us both fed on Arnold Bakery bread. Some of her high school friends came to visit, and one even ended up marrying another of our college friends. Senior year for us was particularly interesting and intense. She took her English Comps earlier than the rest of the class, and moved off campus to Rye, so those late-night drop-ins started to decrease. By spring semester, I had moved off-campus to Port Chester and was working at an internship in Manhattan, only on campus on weekends and the occasional weeknight for classes. However, we stayed close in our affections for our English Professor, Dr. Perret. In our explorations of local thrift/antiques shops, we found an old tarnished suit of armor and presented "George" to Dr. P, as thanks for all the adventures, advice, meals, and time at ye old alma mater.

Now it may be hard to believe, but the early '90s was the pre-cell, pre-e-mail, pre-Internet, pre-social media era, so it took an effort to stay in touch. Post-graduation was a blur of getting established in careers, life, and then--in-a-blink-of-an-eye--16 years have past. Thanks to letters, phone calls, wedding announcements, kids photos, Christmas cards, e-mails, tag-you're-it voice mail chains, texts, tweets, blogs, etc., it hasn't felt like 16 years. ... or didn't until January 2012 ... when down the dark, windy streets of Chicago walked my still-miraculously blond friend into a very long, overdue hug and tears. It was a perfect way to kick off our 40th year, and am I so glad that her husband and kids helped me pull off the "surprise" and let me come and hang out with them. You'll get to read more about that soon, but for now ... here are just a few pics of Kari and Nettie, past and present.

Love ya Kari. So much. So proud of you too.

Where to start? When I think about Auntie Nettie…she has been a constant in my life since 1990. Four years of college—sharing classes, lecture notes, gossip (mostly me), and confidences. I moved to Chicago in 1994 and got a chance to see Nettie in 1995 when she so graciously hosted me upon my unceremonious return to NY for a friend’s wedding. She was, as always, welcoming (think Prodigal Son here), and just a tad bit amused by me—in fact, I think that she’s always been a bit “amused” by me and with my behavior, drama, and ideas.

So fun trip, short re-connection in person “how can we have been away from M’ville for a whole year!” visit…FLASH FORWARD…it’s January 2012.

16 years later … Nettie and I re-cemented our friendship when she visited me in Chicago (o.k., the Western Suburbs of Chicago). She met my husband of 14+ years, my three crazy girls—to whom she’s always been a wonderful, benevolent, if technically unknown, force in the universe—and reaffirmed for me what a FRIEND truly is. Nettie is a keeper; a person with whom I trust the things in life I hold dear and to whom I will always be in debt—for the depth of her friendship and for being that person I can cry to and brag with and share the self I am sometimes embarrassed by.

Nettie,

Happy Birthday (think four-part melody here) Have a good 40th year.

Shakti (Strength), Ananda (Bliss), Moeksha (Freedom).

Be well, be happy and be YOU!!
(But not in an Oprah-ish kind of way, that's just gross.)

Much love from IL,

KC

P.S. I miss you!