I Think We Made It

Last night I went to see a friend who had recently gotten tenure at the college where he teaches. We started graduate school together back in 1990 and have been through various jobs, households, cities. Another friend who had also started her studies with us walked in the door, and there was a lot of catching up to do. Everyone asked about Charlie and—-with a clear memory of the boy I had left eating his dessert before his eel sushi, seated opposite my parents and giving me a quick “bye Mom”—-I said “he’s doing really good” without a second thought.

And then it struck me: It was 17 years ago that I first met my friends and sat across from then with cups of coffee and books in smoky cafés and dim-lit libraries. 17 years: Where in the world has the time gone?

I have been “kind of” busy and extremely preoccupied for at least a good 11 of those years. It seemed impossible that so much time could have passed, and yet I’ve living proof in that tall boy telling me “bye.”

I have not been able to stay in contact with friends as much as I would have liked to at all. Working, taking care of Charlie, spending time with him and Jim, the usual round of shopping, laundry, house cleaning (and car cleaning; Charlie’s shoes have been muddy), take up every moment plus. Many aspects of my job make it possible for me to have a more flexible schedule and so to meet Charlie’s schoolbus every day (Jim puts him on the bus). On the other hand, I do a fair amount of work at home via email and the internet so that it’s possible to, in effect, work 24/7, in addition to taking care of Charlie 24/7.

I’m grateful to have a job at a college that enables me to do all this. And yesterday I was grateful to be standing amid old friends and faces last seen years and years ago and toast my one friend with champagne and say “I think we made it.”

Words that resonate deep in the heart.