33: It Was 7 Years Ago Yesterday
that facebook reminded me about the day I took the above selfie with Laura, a friend I knew back during my time at Trinity Prep.
I’d seen a few likes and comments from Laura on my brother’s Facebook page but it never dawned on me it was THE Laura I knew from Trinity Prep.
I do not remember the message I sent her, but it was something like, “Hi Laura, are you Father Ellis’s daughter?”. I'm not sure why I didn’t look at her profile before proving that my natural hair color truly is blonde, but I hadn’t. Within a minute or three, she replied with “yes” and then asked how I was doing and a few other questions.
This prompted a week or two filled with messages, gradually leading to longer conversations over the phone. Because we both excel at discussing anything and nothing at all (both compliments).
Numerous times, we traded how we would have to go have a beer if I ever made it over to where she lives. Well, one day, I said, hey, ya wanna go get that beer?
The drive to where she lived took me through what I call “Real Florida” which to most people means marshlands and swamps in the middle of nowhere Florida.
We decided to meet at a riverside park near her house. I forget who brought the beer, but we sat on a picnic table and talked like it hadn’t been nearly thirty-five years since we last saw each other at Trinity.
I will never forget her asking me if I ever thought that one day we would be sitting on a table drinking beers thirty-five years ago. I know I told her how thirty-five years ago, we were told our generation wouldn’t live to see thirty because the evil USSR would have killed us all in a nuclear attack. So yeah, it is pretty amazing just to be here with anyone from that far back in my life.
She told me she was getting hungry and had enough food back at her apartment. I accepted the offer. I do not remember what she cooked, because it was a night of laughing and reminiscing. Yes, I washed the dishes after dinner, like I always do when I am the guest.
At one point, I told her how her Dad, one of the founding Fathers of Trinity Prep, told me that I was too young to work on the yearbook staff, even though I was already proving that I had talent in photography. She knew what I was talking about and proceeded to explain to me that the reason he said no was because though he knew I could have been part of the yearbook staff, by denying me a position, I would work harder to prove him wrong. She told me how he mentioned it every time he would see my credit line in either the local or national newspapers.
Over time, Laura introduced me to her co-workers at the cafe near where she lived so they could see that her mystery friend existed.
Other times, the conversations would drift back to our days at Trinity. We joked about some of the weirder crap I pulled, like accepting a dare (approved by the teacher) to announce the answers to a few of their final exam questions at the morning assembly the next day for a $20.00 bill. Laura asked me about my accepting Communion and the fallout from that. Hey, I found out who it was that rushed to call my parents about what their Jewish son had just done. Of course, had I been properly raised in a Jewish home, I would have known that Jews do not ingest the blood nor body of Christ. Have I mentioned how when my Grandmother, who was quick Jewish, asked me what I wanted for lunch one day while I stayed with her in her condo overlooking Biscayne Bay with “A ham and cheese sandwich please”. I won’t say she dropped a plate, but Holy Moses, was she on the phone screaming at my mom about what I just said.
Then she asked me why I was so quiet. Her Dad had prompted her to attempt to befriend me multiple times in an attempt to try to figure out why I was so quiet. So, in a very quick nutshell, and not sharing a ton, I told her about what I had endured and survived while growing up. Via my parents, brother (who she knew quite well at Trinity, because at Trinity Laura was pretty much the person who knew everyone and everything on campus, yet she was never a gossip girl, etc), his friends, and beyond.
She told me who might have footage of me going off the Rollins College water ski jump on a JetSki, sadly, they didn’t. She also told me how she was sorry for many of the male students and a couple of the teachers treated me quite horribly. She added how she knew how one of the main perpetrators of my abuse at Trinity was visited by several of my brother’s friends one night and told to stop bullying me. Back then, my self-confidence was non-existent, and I never really fought back, mostly because most everyone was way bigger than I was.
In many ways, I owe Laura for who I have become over the past six years. That being me being able to process and then speak out about the crap that has happened in my life. Laura is one of the few friends I had at Trinity that together form a fist, with me being the odd one out because, well, I’m a guy. The other fingers know exactly who they are, and yes, they are subscribers to this substack, and we support the hell out of each other.
We are all messed up in our ways. Laura has spent her entire life dealing with a horrible childhood incident that caused visible scarring over the majority of her body, which prevents her from feeling extreme temperatures, amongst other issues. Laura helps the homeless daily, will give anyone the shirt off her back, shares of herself how she would like others to share of themselves, and will not mince words in regards to her opinion.
I know that I am not the easiest friend a person could have, but I am quite appreciative that Laura and I remain friends. Have I mentioned how she married a Kiwi and lived in New Zealand for close to twenty years? She and her husband built Enigma, a sailboat 60 feet long and 27 tons in weight! They built her out of cement or concrete and lived aboard her in New Zealand for several years.
Until 34, and who knows, maybe it will be about some new (to me at least, because until a year ago or so I hadn’t listened to much Coldplay or even knew that reggae from New Zealand is different than reggae from Jamaica) music that I have discovered. No, it won’t be all Coldplay, and yes, I have heard their songs before, especially the introspective one about sweeping the streets I used to own.
If you have been a long-time reader of my substack, you know I don’t usually mention people by name. Earlier today, I sent Laura a text asking her if it was OK to use the above selfie to talk about her and her Dad.
Thank you for being interested in my interestingly weird life,
Mark
PS, Would you please help me finally get my ass to New Zealand for one last adventure before going on dialysis? Find out how HERE.