Friends

I hate this song. I really do. And yet it's one of those songs that is stuck in my head for the rest of my life now, because in the late 80s and early 90s it was performed so often at practically every event that included singing and memory making. Church camps, for instance. Invariably, some talented preacher's daughter would just happen to have her cassette tape soundtrack with her, and during the final Friday service when we were all packed and ready to go home, she would sing it in hopes that we would always be friends, and that we would stay in touch until we could come to camp next year and sing it all over again.

Don't get me wrong. I loved church camp. I loved making new friends. I loved the weeks I spent doing the church camp thing. Even as an adult, I loved working at church camp, something I miss terribly (although it wouldn't be the same now without all the people I worked with and got so close to). And I guess I probably loved (or thought I had fallen in love) with every preacher's daughter who came to camp. But I still hated that song.

To me, that song was less about "let's stay in touch" and "we'll be friends forever", and more about parting to meet no more.

That was the song chosen for my high school graduation, by the powers that were. I have to admit here and now that my last year of high school was a complete waste of my time. Out of seven hours of class time, I spent two in choir, two as a teacher's aide, one in Creative Writing, plus my AP English/Literature and my AP Biology classes. I think I may also have been in a Southwest Literature class at some point that year, but I'm not really sure. Though I loved them all, I think the Biology class was the only one that challenged me.

Sure, I guess I could have taken harder classes like our valedictorian and salutatorian, things like physics and calculus and chemistry and trigonometry. But I didn't really see the sense in busting my tail in classes whose concepts I was never going to use (and I haven't to this day used many math skills beyond the basics, or needed much scientific knowledge that I couldn't find on wikipedia). I wasn't going to be an engineer or a scientist, an accountant, a mathematical theoritician, or an astronaut. I was going to spend my life talking; though admittedly, I thought I was going to be arguing the law or running for public office. At the very least I thought I might be teaching. And of course, in the back of my mind there was always the path that I actually and finally pursued.

Frankly, I think the whole educational system needs to be reformed to better prepare the next generation for life, work, and adulthood. But that's a whole 'nother can of worms. I was talking about a song.

My senior year of high school was almost as bad as second grade (long story in and of itself, and no disrespect or offense intended toward the wonderful 2nd grade teacher I had, the late Glenda Bell Steed, may she rest in peace). Playground politics had not changed at all in the intervening decade. I became public enemy number one among some select groups of my peers. I lost my best friend (got him back though). I made some of the dumbest decisions and biggest mistakes of my life the year I turned 18. I was not thinking clearly, and not listening to God. Graduation was the event that could not get here quick enough, and then it finally arrived.

In addition to my diploma (which someone actually hid from me as a practical joke) and honors tassels, I got a cool porcelain mug with all the names of my graduating class. And my mother turned my gown into a stuffed bear. Those three items are the things I cherish most from that year. And one single memory...

We needed to "walk" with somebody during the Pomp and Circumstance processional.

Some people walked with their significant other. I think it was a big joke to some that two of our mentally challenged classmates ended up walking together. Some tall people just wanted to walk with another tall person. Some smart people wanted to walk with another smart person. I just wanted to walk with a friend. To this day, I don't honestly know what got into me, but on impulse I made my choice. A girl from choir and drama who I knew to be very sweet and generous in spirit, in whom I had no romantic interest, but whom I considered a close friend. I asked her to walk with me, she said yes. Only later did I learn that I had interjected myself into a situation between two of my other friends who had wanted to walk with her too, but because of their own rivalry for her affections they had hesitated.

And I got to walk with her.

Susie McIntyre Luchsinger, sister to Reba, sang at my graduation. And you guessed it. She sang, "friends are friends forever." Then her husband Paul, a cowboy preacher of note, gave the commencement address. I've always thought it was funny that a certain teacher gave a very secular, humanistic speech at the Baccalaureate, which is supposed to be a religious service for the graduating class. And a preacher gave a message about Jesus at the graduation, which is supposed to be a secular event. Paul talked about friendship, and about his best and closest friend, Jesus Christ. It was great!

Through the years, I've had a lot of friends come into and pass out of my life in various ways. There were some friendships that didn't stand the test of time, but there were lots of others that proved they were real when they picked up right where we'd left off the next time we saw each other, no matter how long it had been. I do believe friends can be friends forever.

But I still hate that song.