Middle school is traditionally a time of angst. Not many teachers aspire to to teach these tumultuous years, and the ones who do are often equipped with special gifts. For many of us, the time of adolescence is painful… physical and emotional changes rule our bodies, and simply finding up and down takes a lot of work.
My middle school years, while full of some of these experiences, were different. For the most part, they were the “Wonder Years” of the Fred Savage hit television show. I was lucky to find a family of friends – there were 10 of us – who helped those years pass with great amounts of love and laughter. Very recently, one of our group of ten passed away suddenly. As one of our shared mom’s remarked, he was the heart of our group… and truthfully, none of us will be the same without him.
When we moved from middle school to high school, our tight knit group expanded, gained more members, and sometimes went in different directions. And yet, throughout those years, all 10 of us remained close – part of each others’ support network, a group of trusted friends you could count on. I ended up marrying one of these friends…. another was my maid of honor, and the one we recently lost was the best man in our wedding. In fact, it was only due to him that I kept dating my husband… when I was quite sure there was nothing romantic there, our shared “best man” told me that we were perfect for each other and I needed to stick it out.
As we have grown, we have drifted farther apart…. there’s the twins in New York running their own restaurant, my husband and I in the Bay Area, our maid of honor and three others in Los Angeles, and one member of our group in Tennessee. But with the passing of our heart, we all gathered together again, and in the extreme sadness of our loss, I came to a few realizations.
The first is that love matters. I know, it sounds obvious, but I realized how MUCH it matters more than anything else – it crosses boundaries, hops over barriers, permeates walls, and is infinite when time is not. Our shared love of those Wonder Years was not reduced by time, geography, adulthood, political or religious views. When I saw my old group of 10…. it didn’t matter to me how different we have become as we have grown. We have a shared love that is deeply rooted and cannot be destroyed. And I realized that while the heart of our group is missing, the one we probably all called the “best man” – the beat of love goes on, and his love is wrapped within that beat and permeates our lives.
The second is that being a mother changes everything. (I know I know!! It’s so obvious, again…!!) But… as we attended the memorial, and I watched the pictures of my best man’s infancy and childhood pass across the tv screens, it wasn’t those from our wonder years that got me… it was those of him before I knew him, as a baby, a three year old riding his hot wheels, a 5 year old on the two wheel bike. There is something about being a mom that fundamentally changes how you view life. When you see those pictures, they don’t simply mark or capture moments in time. They are filled with hope, expectations, tenderness, hints at the future, and a deep seated appreciation for the experience of life and growth. The happiest moment in the two days of celebrating my friend’s life, was getting to hold the newest member of my maid of honor’s growing family, whom I hadn’t met yet. As I looked at the 6 week child of my oldest bff, I couldn’t keep it together…. there is that experience of joy and hope, expectations and love, that as a mother – makes loss and life so much more poignant. And I know the immeasurable depth of loss his mother must be feeling.
And there was one final realization that I had. Family is more than blood, and having an “extended family” of friends is perhaps one of the greatest gifts that life can give you. My group of 10 from those wonder years are always going to be part of my life. The love we shared during those critical years of adolescence forms a big part of the foundation of who I am. And that foundation is stronger than the forces of time and space… stronger even than death. And while they weren’t blood relations, they were my family. The love I have for the 6 week old baby of my oldest bff is deeply rooted in my heart. He is my family too.
I miss my friend. I still cry almost daily. But I love my family… and part of that is my group of 10. I am grateful for the foundation of love they helped me to create, on which I have built much of my life. I will always miss my friend’s teasing smile, easy laugh, and open heart. But I know that nothing destroys his love or the impact he has had on my life. And while the heart of our group has moved on, my own heart, while hurting, is simultaneously full – and partly with him. And for that, I am forever grateful.
(Oh, what a small ego I apparently have!)
