There was only a half a day. I went into town. George is really becoming a good friend.
Well Goodnight.
This was true. George became a very good friend. I moved to Suffern, NY on July 10, 1973. It took about six months before things started to feel okay. George, who lived down the street, was a big part of the second half of my childhood. Great guy. Now married with two kids, living in Illinois. He's a chiropractor.
3 comments:
It's amazing how much you can read between the lines of your little boy diary. So much feeling. People don't realize how hard moving is on kids. We moved when I was seven. It took me a year to recover.
Good Morning Don, I tried to leave a comment on your blogspot but I guess it got lost in the bit bucket. It went something like "I love you too. You and your brother were my brothers, since I only had sisters." The following seven to eight years, after January 24, 1974, really shaped who I became and I'm glad you guys were part of it. We were 10 and 11 years old then. I recall thinking, when I found out you kept a journal, that you must have wrote a page or more of the days events every night. (How can he do that? I wrote enough in school). It is wonderful that a few brief sentences can have the power of sparking neurons of recall. I have a 10 year old now and I can't imagine him in 30 years being friends with the kids he knows now. Heck, I can't imagine my kids doing half the things that we did. I may be sappy but I think about my childhood experiences frequently. Watching my boys wrestle and tumble with each other reminds of the days I would watch you and Greg go at each other, wherever we happened to be; middle of the road, woods, sandpiles, basements... The most I could do is watch in amazement and laughter. (I wished I could do that to my sisters). I couldn't pick a side because you were both my buddies.
My childhood str8 friends are all born again Christians, and they don't really want to talk to an avowed homosexual... But the homosexuals I knew in High School I'm still good friends with... Wild.
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