A Visit with Old Friends from Long Ago

Winter with sunshine and a visit with old friends.

In 1990, I took a part-time job with the district manager of State Farm Insurance. She was the first female to hold that position. She had been an accomplished business woman already, but this job was a challenge because of her gender and all the agents under her were men. Her husband, Harvey, was my age and he and I graduated from high school together.

Twila seemed happy to have me, and I was delighted to work for her. After my school teaching years were done, I held several part-time jobs and enjoyed working for my brother-in-law, Stu, who was  managing an office of an engineering firm in Albany, GA, my hometown. 

I liked office work and especially liked using the computer. I was in for a shock when I found out that Twila's office had no computer. I was expected to use an electric typewriter. The job required completing forms, usually in triplicate, and sitting right in front of her desk. I might not have taken the job had I realized the pressure I would feel each time I made a mistake with her watching my every move. I am glad I didn't know, because the five years I spent with Twila were some of the best.  I learned an essential lesson while working for this intelligent woman, something that changed my life in many ways. I learned that it was Okay to make a mistake. It was not the end of the world. I was a perfectionist. In my family making a mistake was unforgivable and unforgettable. At least it seemed that way to me. I put more pressure on myself than anyone else ever did.

Today, I had a reunion with Twila and Harvey at Fatz Restaurant in Blairsville, Georgia. We had so much to talk about that we were still talking as we walked out the door two hours after we sat down to eat. We agreed we can't wait so long to see each other again. We need a full weekend, I think, to run out of subjects or just run down. Have you ever had that happen to you?

I was only supposed to work from 8:30 AM until 2:00 PM. five days a week, but my half days were not long enough to complete my work. Part of the problem was we talked too much. When Twila was not there, it was easier to get my work done.

It was not unusual for us to go to lunch together and then take some time to go shopping before we returned to the office. We enjoyed being together then just as we did today. It was fun to work for Twila.

She often said she was lucky when she hired me because she got two for one. That first year Barry hooked up the new computer in her new office, and he helped me with downloading the software for State Farm business. He was the computer person anytime we had a problem.

Twila didn't know beans about the computer as it was a very new part of her work. I had been working with computers for some time before joining her office, so it was not that hard for me to learn the State Farm programs. It doesn't seem so long ago, but it was eons ago when you think of how much new technology has become a daily part of our lives.

Twila was a generous and caring employer. It was hard for me to think of her as my boss sometimes, because we were such good friends. She gave me one of the nicest gifts I ever received. She made reservations for Barry and me in Savannah, Georgia at a wonderful bed and breakfast right on the square in the historic district. She also gave us dinner at one of the best restaurants in the city.
It was a trip I will always remember. I have been to that lovely city by the sea many times since then, but the long weekend with Barry at the bed and breakfast will linger in my memory the rest of my days.

Twila and Harvey ( I am not using their last names because I haven't asked them if I could) are dear people and long time friends. It was especially nice today to begin this new year by seeing them and recalling cherished memories.

Tonight I was cleaning out emails from an old address I don't use anymore. I opened a folder from August 2009. I cried as I read the sweet and beautiful letters from family and friends who knew Barry and loved him. Some of those writers are gone now. I am so glad I have those letters in my computer. Each one brought back a memory, and some brought back many memories.

That is what life is about.  Making memories we hold dear all the days of our lives. 

A Good Day

A few days ago I sent out an email to three friends. "Join me in a Girls Only Day."

I wanted to get together with old friends who made me laugh. And laugh we did. We met at a steak house a couple of hours drive away, but in a central location for all of us. The food was excellent. We laughed so much that others in the restaurant stared and smiled. Our waitress liked us and said we could stay as long as we wanted. She even made a photo of the four of us. One of those friends today, my best friend, was my sister Gay. The other women we have known for thirty years. Before the fun began it was imperative that the serious talk take place. Illness, failing loved ones - we had to discuss, but not for long.

The recent stress in our lives evaporated while we caught up on Linda's new puppy and her husband's venture into making Andy a therapy dog. We found out that Sue's grandson had been recruited by the University of Georgia football team. I learned from the three of them where to eat in Hawaii, the delight of the fragrant air I would breathe when I stepped off the plane, and I revealed that my doctor had a time share in the same place where I will vacation this fall on my first visit to Hawaii. She had told me how beautiful it was and that I would not want to leave there. 

We laughed at ourselves, at our need to organize our homes, but our unwillingness to let go. The dread of someone throwing away our most precious possessions sent shudders up our spines.

We all agreed it had been way too long since we had spent time like this, visiting and enjoying each other. When we finally left the restaurant (the staff was preparing for the dinner crowd) we huddled outside, unable to make the final move to leave, showing photos on cell phones and telling more stories about the funny things that happen at funerals. We hugged and then finally climbed into our cars and headed home in different directions. 

My spirits had sailed aloft like a helium balloon. I didn't want the day to end. I drove past the street to my house and headed for our little town which was built on a square surrounding the original courthouse that stands waiting to be updated and made safe for gatherings. I parked and walked around the square, stopped in several places searching for a brick with our names and another in memory of my brother, Ray.We bought the bricks to help with funding the refurbishing of the courthouse some years ago.

Downtown, at six o'clock, was quiet as a church. Stores were closed. Everyone had gone home. The big shade trees seemed to hover over me, keeping me safe in the town I now call home,  continuing the warm feeling of love I had experienced with my friends.