Not Forgotten

I have many friends whom I haven't spoken to in a long time. Somehow with the passage of time, we've let things slide. But they're not forgotten. These friends I think of often, longingly, wishfully, wondering. I long to see them again, to regain what we've allowed to slide. I wish that I could rebuild all the bridges that we didn't burn, we simply neglected. And I wonder where they are and what they're doing. In fact I often spend long periods of time thinking on these things and these people. None of the people are forgotten, each friendship is a treasured memory to me that I'm forever grateful for, even if now, I don't know where they are.

Earlier this evening I was talking to Matt and my mother in law about one such person. Melanie. Melanie was my first best friend. The first friend I can really remember. I grew up with her and her family. My fondest childhood memories involve her and her family (especially Grandma G). I remember climbing mulberry trees and popping warm juicy mulberries in our mouths at an astounding rate, as we tried desperately to eat them before her mum could pick them and make them into mulberry pie. I remember green ants biting us as we sat in the mulberry tree. I remember staying at her grandma's house on magnetic island. I remember going to the beach and catching crabs and bringing them back to the house. I remember the taste of purple hubba-bubba as we ate so much of it at the island (and my mum didn't let me have bubble gum normally). Whenever I smell purple hubba-bubba I am transported to magnetic island and being small again. Sometimes I buy purple hubba-bubba and chew it just for that effect. I remember walking (in our sandshoes) on the reef at low tide and I can remember a man showing us what we thought was a rock until he poked it with a shell and it darted away - a stone fish. I can remember us being to afraid to jump back to the piece of reef we'd jumped from because toad fish were circling the reef we were on. We were always together. When I left Townsville we wrote letter upon letter to each other. For years and years and years. As time went on we both got busy, got degrees, got married, and we just didn't keep in as close contact, until now, when I'm not sure I even have her number or address anymore.

Anyway earlier this evening I was remembering the one and only time I have eaten choko. It was when I was at Melanie's for dinner. I hate choko it turns out. With passion. After reminiscing about choko for 30 minutes this evening, my mum called. Melanie had a baby today, I found this out moments after having a large conversation with Matt and his mum about my choko experience. Congratulations Mel!!! I wish I could call and say hello. I wish I could turn back the hands of time and write more letters. I wish I could see you now, a mother.