My oldest childhood friend died this week. Cynthia and I “met” when she was 3 and I was 2 years of age. Her family lived three houses down the street from my own, and our parents were close friends. Cynthia is the very first person I have memories of from that time.
We played together as children do….we shared dolls and doll houses, books, played games together, fought together and made up together. I spent many happy hours with her.
As is the way of childhood we grew apart in our early teens. She, being older, matured faster and her interests changed. I missed her but had many school friends to play with and thought little of our growing apart.
In high school, she was a leader and I a follower. She came back into my day to day life in a huge way. Any club she was in I also joined…….her activities became my activities, but we never reestablished our original connections of early childhood.
Years passed and our lives were caught up in children of our own. She moved overseas, worked with news agencies, nearly lost her life in the bombing of Beirut in 1982, married Claude Saldani in 1985 and eventually living in Baku. We raised our kids, found jobs that satisfied us and just carried on.
We reconnected about twelve years ago and it was as if we had never been apart from age 2 and 3 onwards. We shared thoughts, dreams, wishes, joys, pains and frustrations……we argued over politics and religions……….we loved each other unconditionally.
Cynthia died this week. And life has lost a bit of luster..of joy…
pictures courtesy of Cynthia.