The Facebook Series Chapter 1 – Part I

If you are apart of the Facebook culture then you have experienced the exciting reunions with old classmates, neighborhood pals and perhaps former lovers. You may have also gotten the awkward friend request from someone you don’t want back in your life. This new culture has unearthed both the good and bad in relationship etiquette. Now, I am sure I am not the first person to chitter chat about this new culture on their blog, but many of my reconnections have been extreme tales - stay with me here...I know the first tale is long, but trust me it is a doozy. I will break it into a 2 parter. I have seen this exciting revolution bring me to the brink of absolute giddiness over random reconnections and it has also brought out the painful sorrow of deep down guilt. Here's one of those connections.



PART 1 (of 2)

I will start with my childhood next door neighbor. Ah, but which one....that mystery will unfold as we go. My hometown is 35 minutes outside of New York City. It's an idealistic New Jersey community with tons of ethnic and economic diversity, yet most of my block was Jewish. It’s the kind of town that doesn’t have a “downtown”, but rather a “Village”. My block was stunning and trimmed with real gas street lamps, it still is. (It is now known as the Historic District, which cracks me up). I was lucky to have 4 best friends on my block. 3 of us were the same age and one was 1 year older. Our colonel houses were in a row. It could not have been more perfect. We didn’t even need to cross the street to play. We could run from yard to yard with no interference. We even managed to create the world's sweetest Slip-n-Slide you have ever seen....yard to yard! For the sake of my own privacy (I won’t pretend it is for them) I will be using fictional names. The girl in house number 1 was the oldest, the tallest, the prettiest, the bossiest, a bit of a snob and my best-friend, Audrey. She had silky brown hair that flowed to her butt. It was the 70's and that was cool! The next house was me, short, artsy and very sensitive. I was a "natural" auburn back then with big brown eyes and freakles. The third house was Elana, spoiled, chubby and had the best toys. She also had great clothes. The last house was Katie, she was a bit of a book worm with a strict mother that scared the shit out of us, so we didn’t play with her as often. Audrey and I were by far the closest. My Mother died when I was 6 years old and just starting the first grade. Audrey, at only 7 years old, tried to take on the role of Mother. It was more then your average game of "house". I had a loving house-keeper at that time, but I remember Audrey making me oatmeal for breakfast and walking to school with me. I can’t image what that must have been like for her…watching your best-friend’s Mother die at such a young age…it must have been a terrifying reality.

Whenever we would play with Elana it would be fun…but we were mean. We would always leave a mess behind in Elana’s house so that she would get in trouble and we honestly just used her for her toys. I also remember us calling her names. Looking back I must have been hurting so much from the death of my Mom, that I took it out on my poor neighbor to the left. As we got older and our bodies changed – we got meaner. We toilet papered her house and made prank phone calls late at night. When I was alone with Elana I actually liked her…and we would have a blast (I think these moments are what Elana chooses to remember today). We liked many of the same things; we loved to sing together, ride bikes in her driveway and make-up dance routines. I just felt like I had to keep it a secret…she was the loser of the block…the kid that got bullied, and sadly, I was one of those bullies. I moved from that block when I was 11 years old. My Dad was getting remarried and we needed a bigger house since our family was doubling in size. The new house was in an affluent part of town “up the hill”. I did not hang out with those girls again and I eventually went off to boarding school a few years later.

I saw Audrey a handful of times over the years. Our Father’s played poker together every Monday night for almost 40 years and when the Jewish High Holidays rolled around there was always a chance I would see her at Yom Kipper Break Fast over a bagel with lox. Those poker guys were more like Uncles - so "family" holidays were often spent with the same cast of characters. I miss those guys today - a few have since passed away. When I would see Audrey at these holiday events it was usually awkward. I would linger in another room until we were forced to cross paths. When I moved away – she was hurt. I was getting a step-sister and that’s a role that she had always played – or wanted to. She didn’t know her place anymore and as much as we wanted to maintain the friendship, she was a year older, into being popular and a bit of a J.A.P. – it just wasn’t a fit. I always found her to be self absorbed and at times down right mean. We went to the same middle school and we did acknowledge each other in the halls with a slight nod. She was also in the same grade as my step-sister – that was just weird. We eventually stopped speaking to each other. There was no big blowout fight, it was just too hard. I would see Elana in school, but we were in different cliques, actually I’m not sure Elana had any friends. Katie went to private school in another town.

About 11 years later I was 24 years old and living with my parents in Soho (they moved out of New Jersey when all of their kids finished school). I was about to move into my own apartment on 29th street…but trust me, I didn’t want to go. I was living rent free and it was the most fabulous apartment in NYC. It was a Monday night…poker night. My Dad still made the trip to New Jersey for the weekly game. The same group of guys. Like any other Monday my Dad would get home around mid-night. It was always the same routine, he would say goodnight as he passed the lower level den and head off to bed. On that night he walked past, said goodnight and headed up the stairs…but turned around with news to share. “I have sad news about your old friend Audrey”. A shiver went through my entire body. I had a dream about Audrey the night before. I had not thought about her for years. In my dream we were in our childhood houses. My Mother’s sewing room faced Audrey’s bedroom window about 50 yards away. We were our adult selves…the dream was like a silent movie. I was trying to reach out to Audrey’s hand, but I could not touch it. “She doesn’t want anyone to know, but she has cancer”, my Dad said, “So, don’t reach out to her”. He actually said those words “don’t reach out to her”. I was completely freaked out. I told my Dad about my dream through tears and we agreed that I had to reconnect with Audrey. I was afraid for her. The next day I called my Aunt B. – she was best friends with Audrey’s Mother and she would tell me what to do. She immediately gave me the green light and said that Audrey just needed a friend right now.

Audrey and I were fine, we picked up like we were 10 years old again. She was terrified and it was my turn to be the Mother. She had Hodgkin’s Disease – stage 2b. As we caught up on our lives it turned out that we were on a similar career path in the entertainment industry. Although she wanted to be a writer she had just left her job as an assistant with a Talent Manager in the New York. I had interviewed for HER job just a few weeks earlier – not realizing at that time that it was her job. I recalled the manager saying that her assistant “Audrey” was leaving to work for Howard Stern. I was offered the position, but the hours conflicted with my schedule in film school. Audrey and I chatted for about 3 hours that night. She was starting chemo the next day and just needed to talk it out. She was 25 years old, back living with her parents…and very sick. I asked her if she was going to write about her journey with cancer since she was an aspiring writer, but she said it was too painful to put down in words. That night when we hung up the phone I started a journal for her. I have no idea where that journal is now…but I remember my first entry very well, “Audrey is starting chemo tomorrow, God I am so afraid for her, I would rather die then go through something like that.” Those words would come back to smack me in the face about 4 months later....


(End of Part I - The Facebook Series)
Stay tuned to find out who in this tale I reconnect with. Does Audrey survive? Why would my words come back to haunt me? Whatever happened to the girl we bullied?....