Reconnected

Well, the game is still on. The offer I thought was coming and then assumed was not coming may still come. And this makes me feel relief. Until I get the offer. Or don't. I know my game.

In the meantime, I am making connections. And reconnections.

So here's the thing about Facebook - it can be very addictive, trivial, and a heavenly tool for procrastinators, but, it can also connect you to people you had lost. It is true that some people should stay lost, but usually those people know who they are. In any event, one of the many I have recently "found" is Jane.

Jane is this free-spirited Angelina Jolie-like beauty, bohemian, brainiac with a positively golden honey singing voice who was a very good friend to me when Anne died. She stepped into action and got the twins free diaper service for a year and was around quite a bit. As a matter of fact, Amanda called Jane "mommy" first, primarily because she heard Jane's son calling her that, but she clearly felt comfortable enough to do it. And I wasn't her mommy yet.

I met Jane when we were both in a 1987 Theatre West production of "A Little Night Music" (see above - she's on the left; me on the right). We stuck together after that.

Jane bakes pies. From scratch. Every Thanksgiving eve. She bakes enough to feed three armies and has all her girlfriends over to bake with her. I used to go. We would bake, and laugh, and drink too much, and dance in the kitchen, and make a horrible mess, but it didn't matter because housekeeping was never one of Jane's passions. People were.

Jane and her then husband Drew had amassed a huge group of artsy-fartsy friends (and I mean that in the most flattering of ways) - and I was one of them (in a "conformist" kind of way). They threw fun and intelligent parties. For her 30th birthday, out in the backyard all lit up with twinkle lights, there must have been 75 people there plus children. My girls were there. They don't remember because they were running around in diapers but they were caught up in the incredibly happy and creative energy of that evening. We each had to stand on a makeshift stage and perform something for Jane. Everyone was there - actors, writers, musicians, directors, artists, as well as a few sane people - and so we were entertained with song, dance, readings and letters to honor Jane on this night. It was full. I cannot tell you how terrifically fun and memory-worthy it was. It hearkened back to what I imagined were the days of the 20's and 30's, when people had "salons" or traded words at the round table of the Algonquin room.

Okay - so back to me.

I had lunch with Jane today. We guessed it had been about 10 years since we last saw one another - and it was probably more because I don't think Grace was born yet. In any case, we didn't have near enough time to catch up but it was wonderful to see her again, to talk to her again, to remember everything I have mentioned above and had forgotten about. And here is what I walked away with: I am so grateful for this time away from working and the corporate world. SO grateful. I would not have made time for this kind of re-connection. I was busy and it would have been inconvenient. And I don't think I would have thought it was important. But memories - good and bad - so easily fade and disappear. If you are not called to remember a person or who they were to you, what they meant to you, what they did for you, then their contribution in making you who you are is of little consequence. And I'm thinking that that is a very sad thing. If you let people go, you lose a lot of yourself. You cannot get old with old friends. And this is why you must keep them. Yeah Jane!

Make the time.