seeing an old friend (lyn)

In November of 2008, my friend Cynthia turned 50.  She gave herself a wonderful party, and I went. I probably weighed somewhere between 150 and 160 and she kindly said nothing.  Either that, or she didn’t notice.  It had probably been two years since we had seen each other last.

We used to get together regularly when Cynthia lived a few blocks away.  Her daughter Nicole is the same age as Alexander and they were classmates.  Cynthia is also a single mom, so we had a lot in common.

In 2004, Cynthia wanted more space.  She bought a house in NJ, and she and Nicole and Otis (their 2-year old Wheaton Terrier) moved.  In the beginning, we saw each other regularly, but as time passed, we got together less and less.  With no traffic, Cynthia’s only a 15-minute drive from the city, but it somehow feels a lot further, especially without a car.

In the past three years, we’ve seen each other only a couple of times, and talk maybe once a year.  But we never feel like strangers when we do connect.  Cynthia unexpectedly calls me today around five, tells me she is coming into the city, and asks if I’ll be around at  6 to get together for an hour or so.  “Of course, come over,” I say.  Then I change out of my comfy Horace Mann sweatpants and oversized sweater and into a pair of skinny jeans and a long beige T, both of which accentuate my new skinny self.

It’s great seeing Cynthia.  We talk about our kids, college, her four-year relationship with a man she probably won’t marry, her very large and crazy neighbors who live across the street, poor Otis who recently died, and city vs. country living.  She doesn’t mention a thing about my weight.  So under the topic of what’s new, I mention that I recently  lost 40 pounds.  “You’ve always been thin, so that’s how I think of you.”  She never noticed when I gained the weight so of course she doesn’t  notice now that I’ve taken it off. 

I hope I look the same when she sees me next, and I hope that is well short of two years from now.