I recently got back in touch with my very first best friend, Joan, after losing touch with her for some 20 years. It was with her that I had my first (and last) fistfight; digging in the dirt so deep, it seemed, that we would soon get to China or Hell, whichever came first; dreaming of what it would like to be in college and have boyfriends at the age of 5; pretending that the two vertical cement slabs attached to the stoop were horses. Joan always got to name hers first, which wasn’t fair (it was really just a matter of who shout out first – I guess I was too slow). I always got second dibs on the name, and she always got Sparkle – which, of course, is the elite of imaginary horse names. Right after Joan’s ninth birthday her family moved away, which was very sad. I had no idea where and didn’t think I’d ever see her again. As fate would have it, eight months later I stood in the schoolyard of my own brand new neighborhood, feeling very lost. All of a sudden Joan came running up to me shouting, jumped up into my arms and banged her head into my chin. The joy was immense – so was the pain! I still have a tiny remnant of the chip it left in my tooth. Now that we’re back in touch, the 20 year gap seems like 20 minutes. Connections like that are something special.
Original author: babs