My Friends
As an adult, I understand that my friend's parents must've been acutely aware of my father's imprisonment and probably thought of it every time they looked at me. (As a child, I thought they were really nice to me, just because they liked me.) Their support distracted and sustained me.
Kim was my first best friend. We spent many a happy hour on our bikes, at the Little League field, family events in each of our homes, sleepovers, sitting on the King's Grant wall, eating junk food and talking… We still are, and always will be, close friends.
Around the table, left to right: Judie, in pink, Lynn, me, Mary Cary, Susan Carver, my sister Mary, Wendy. A forty-year (unintentional - the time just went by really quickly!) pause in contact with Judie, ended two months ago, and hasn't dimmed my permanent affection for her. I count her among my dearest friends and hope we can make up for lost time. Lynn and I have always kept in touch, at least sporadically, from before this picture was taken until our last long phone conversation, two months ago. Susan will always be a friend, because she's family. I last saw her over a year ago at the wedding of our shared (first) nephew. My little sister, Mary, will always be my closest friend.
Michael, Sarah Jean Taylor, me, Patrick Armstrong with Mary Beth and Gary Armstrong in front. Mary is holding a baby duckling that we'd swooped up in a net from the lake behind our house. Poor little ducks. We let them go later.
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