(A Tribute to Rhonda...)
I seem to ponder a lot these days. And among my pondering has been..... well it started out.... pondering on the idea of joining Facebook to “reconnect” with family and long lost friends. Then my thoughts somehow moved along to those of us (generally those who are single) who so long for someone (generally a significant other) who could/would really... not just love us... but really “understand us” ... understand the “core of who we really are” (other than our kids). Unconditional love? No... not that really as...believe me... I've got conditions attached to my emotions. But I'm not heading in that direction here. So I'll get on with it. We long for others to really know & understand us... yet.... we are sooooo unwilling to really share just “who we are.” Rather ironic.
This idea brought back to mind a seminar I took years ago. One of the exercises in the seminar was breaking off in pairs (btw not a marriage seminar); first one would ask, “Tell me who you are.” and then the other. We could not share our work or the fact that we were, wife/husband or parent. We were to get to the core of our substance. Not an easy task. We all get so “wrapped up” in our surroundings.
Joining Facebook and relocating old friends has brought this to the forefront of my mind. How DO we “reconnect” after so many years? Who ARE each of us REALLY??? I could go back and offer the story of my life since high school. We all could. And maybe that's not a bad idea even. But that's not where I'm heading here either. So... I'll get on with it.
And now... that it's been established.... I've become a ponderer and perhaps a rambler. The next step in the seminar I referred, to was for the partners to then take turns with the following..... “Let me tell you who I see....” This is where I'm heading.
My pondering has taken me back to the people who have always been a part of my life whether I've told them so or not. Siblings & their kids; aunts, uncles, teachers, friends, etc. Those people and incidents that remain in my memory and heart, and really HAVE become a part of who I am.
One of the people I've continued to carry with me through life is Rhonda Nichols (now Van Gompel).
I think it's time for me to tell her “who I see.” If any of our other classmates would like to do the same, please feel free to continue any or all of this on your own walls in the form of reconnecting with Rhonda and others through her. Although we have been out of touch for nearly 40 years, I see Rhonda as one of the nearest and dearest life-long friends a person could ever have. I can honestly see us sitting down at either of our kitchen tables once again (butter appropriately placed in the center as a reminder of all the homework that got passed through it at my house) and picking up our conversation right where we left off.
What I see.... is a friend that was always there.... good times and bad. Rhonda started putting up with me and my antics beginning in the first grade. We rode the school bus together and always sat together. Even after I got bus-sick and threw up all over the seat making it difficult for Rhonda to get out when the bus finally stopped. Amazingly Rhonda was still my friend the next day.
As we matured, somewhere along the line (probably in the 2nd grade) we learned to make paper snowflakes. Dang that was a long bus ride! At some point I decided to fill my time with beautifully created snowflakes. I'm sure Rhonda assisted me in my artistry, but certainly not from the beginning of the bus ride to the end as I did. I will never forget the bus stopping in front of Henry Park school that morning, and before opening the door to let all the children out, our bus driving saying, “Would whoever cut up paper on the bus last night, please stay in their seat.) BUSTED at 7 ! I don't ever remember being more humiliated!!! Rhonda never once said... “You started it!” My friend sat there with me and together we cleaned up every bit of paper that did not melt in the manner traditional snowflakes would have aided us in doing. Still, Rhonda remained my best friend and still, she continued to sit with me on the school bus.
At that time, Henry Park was the “new school” in town. My dad was still working on laying the brickwork for the flag pole in the front. The playground was in the back for the most part, probably except for rainy days when it would get muddy. Rhonda and I managed to find one such BIG mud hole in the back of Henry Park. The bell rang for everyone to line up at the door for returning to their classrooms. All the children went running... except Rhonda and myself... all the children lined up... except Rhonda and myself.... all the children hollered at us.... “You're gonna get in trouble!!!!” All I could think of was “A-GIN”... yet Rhonda and I could not move. All the children headed into the building with their teachers while Rhonda and I were left there in our puddle with our boots slowly sinking farther and farther into the mud. We were really beginning to worry and of course the harder we tried to get out, the farther we worked our way in. Again.... some of the longest moments in life with my friend. Finally teachers arrived at the mud hole. They reached for our hands, they tugged, they pulled, and we did not budge. Eventually a rope was brought to the scene and we were rescued, all but one pair of boots. Probably Rhonda's. I can vaguely remember having my white boots washed and placed by the heater to dry. I vaguely remember Rhonda having neat red boots... never more to be seen.... yep... she was pulled straight out of her boots in that there mud hole. And still..... Rhonda stayed my friend.
I'm thinking Rhonda may have been spared the embarrassment of the moldy oranges in my locker at the old school around the 4th grade ( her parents probably saw a pattern and requested the separation). LOL.... whoever would have thought locker checks would have started at the 4th grade level for moldy oranges? They may have spared her also the fact that her best friend would flunk basket weaving in the 3rd grade. Nor do I remember if she was one to get locked out of Mr. Hoffman's English class with me because of the prank I wanted to play on him. (Some people have no sense of humor – I honestly think Mr. Hoffman did, but there was an element of setting precedence for socially acceptable behavior in school.) “I'm sure if she wasn't there, she heard about it, and still didn't dump me as being “trouble.” Nope.... Rhonda stuck by me through thick and thin.
Cont'd in my comment
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