Tom was born almost exactly two weeks after I was, our fathers were partners in the same law firm and soon after both judges together. I must have known of Tom�s existence all my life. We attended the same schools for six of our fifteen pre-college lives years (two years of pre-school, sixth, and then high school). We did not have a single class together or, probably exchange more than 30 words with one another until senior year.
We are totally BFFs.
I remarked jokingly tonight that fate kept us apart until we were at the right point in our lives to meet and be friends. Maybe it�s kind of true. I was good friends with Jill, Tom�s big sister long before Tom, even. Four years of Spanish and we never had the same class. We attended the same pre-school. The same PRE-SCHOOL! I didn�t find that out until tonight when being shown his Christmas tree I discovered an unmistakable picture-with-gold-spray-painted-macaroni-frame ornament.
We didn�t actually know one another until senior year. I think I probably just assumed familiarity with him � I went in knowing I knew him and we were meant to be friends and he�s a good sport. He plays along.
My friendship with Tom is almost an anti-tradition. It�s a tradition that never was, rather. I�m pretty sure our contemporaries thought we were long time friends from childhood, and at least on my part, I simply behaved as if we were.
So much of my life (of lives in general, I think) is governed by semi-mindless tradition. It�s not always a bad thing. This morning we woke up and went over to Uncle Dick�s, then Grandfather�s for Christmas. It�s tradition. Later I set up all of the Hanukkah decorations � it�s tradition. Mama came back over and cooked latkes while Daddy hid the presents, we all said the blessings over the candles together and hunted for and opened presents together the way it always happens.
It wasn�t terrible. In fact, it was perfectly nice. Maybe this wasn�t/won�t be the best holiday season in the history of my life, but so far it�s been very nice. No one expects the first holiday after a separation to be easy but it�s not been bad. Maybe my parents feel differently, maybe they don�t. Maybe I simply assume tradition and hope things work out for the best.
Driving home I meandered through some nearby neighborhoods. Dave Matthews� �Satellite� came on the radio right as I was passing Daniel Driver�s house. His garage where I first heard that song, in the summer right after seventh grade. That was the only time I ever went over to Daniel�s house, the only time I was invited to a �cool kid party� until eleventh grade (and then it was still one of three). That party, being the only of its kind, still sticks in my mind. We played suck-and-blow with a card, but I think I sat the round out. I told Maddy Law that I�d never kissed a boy and she said �It�s fun. You�ll like it.�
Maybe I govern my life less by traditions and more on the assumption that it is cyclical.
Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukkah. It�s nice and only getting better from here, I feel.
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