now and then

Earlier this week, my mother relayed some unexpected (although not necessarily unwelcome) news: one of the new physio interns in her department happens to be a girl I went to elementary school with. It was amusing to hear the story: how they initially both recognized each other, but weren't sure; it took my mother mentioning my name during conversation at lunchtime before the girl, at the other end of the table, jumped up and exclaimed,

"I know Julia!

I went to school with Julia!

I was at Julia's birthday parties at your house!"

I laughed, and then asked a lot of questions of my mother (how is she? what does she look like? how does she speak? how does she dress? what does she remember?) - and, similarly, she asked my mom all about me too. She even told my mom that, having not seen me since we were probably ten or eleven years old, she could still remember my parents' old home and find it to this day. I could say the same, actually: I believe the first sleepover party I ever attended happened to be in her basement.

No matter how distant, how remote the memories, childhood has such a big impact on the kind of adult one becomes. I wouldn't say I had the easiest childhood, socially; in fact, there were days, there were times, where I have positively awful memories. Nightmarish memories, in fact, memories I'd sooner forget.

I certainly wasn't Miss Popularity.

My lack of awareness about popular culture (tv shows, Nintendo) combined with the fact that my head was constantly buried in a book and that I had no free time, what with my daily extra-curriculars of violin, voice and gymnastics - well, all of these things added to my introverted nature meant that, most of the time, I was a loner on the periphery of the popular crowd.

Now, a fairly confident, unafraid, societally current adult, I tend to not think about those days. In fact, a lot of who I've become has been influenced by the way I learned to see the world back then: I'm quick to recognize the outcast, cheer the underdog, note the awkwardness, voice the dissent. Having been on the outside looking in, I learned to be observant rather than oblivious; objective rather than overbearing.

It's a shock, though, to have past mixed with present so suddenly. Without warning, after the conversation with my mother during which I bravely mentioned that she might suggest to this girl that we get together for a coffee to catch up, I was suddenly plunged into feelings of complete and absolute panic. Why, you ask? Why would a somewhat accomplished, supposedly intimidating woman in her mid-twenties be scared of a coffee? The same reason it shocked me when, several months ago, the greatest tormentor of my childhood passed me on the street...and smiled at me as I gaped in shock. Clearly, she had no idea who I was.

When I think about my childhood friendships, I often think about the movie Now and Then, which chronicles the life of four adult friends and looks at their lives the summer that they were 12-year-old girls. I've often wondered what it might be like to have friendships that date back that far. Although I have extremely close, precious friendships, the majority of them are from my later teens onward or from extracurricular activities, rather than from early school days. Now, knowing that this physio intern working with my mother for the next several months is still connected to at least a couple of other girls from back then, the door seems open to possibility. I'm just afraid that I won't be me around these girls...that somehow, I'll turn into that shy, awkward child with huge eyes that was once upon a time referred to as

"The Human Dictionary"

because of my propensity, even at a young age, to speak with big words that yes, I actually knew how to spell, even then.

Still, it's time for me to move forward. To do so, as the movie so poignantly states in one of the narrative sequences, I must start by embracing the things from my past that I'd rather not remember; by heeding the advice of the crazy, grief-stricken neighbourhood man in the movie who counsels that there really is a purpose for both the good and bad things in life; by having that catch-up coffee. Maybe then, I'll stop being afraid.
Afraid to face people.
Afraid to face myself.

You can run from the disappointments you're trying to forget...But it's only when you embrace your past that you can truly move forward.

Samantha, as played by Demi Moore

Now and Then

I've wasted a lot of years...Afraid to face people, but mostly afraid to face myself...Things will happen in your life that you can't stop...But that's no reason to shut out the world...There's a purpose for the good and for the bad.

Crazy Pete, as played by Walter Sparrow
Now and Then