Wednesday, December 03, 2003

They’re Leaving Town

Senior year there were eight of us in a big creepy victorian house on a hill in West Philly.  We lived like kings and knew that the bond we shared among ourselves as housemates was deeper and richer than most people get to experience in a lifetime - all eight of us, a harmonious close-knit non-stop party.  On graduation, some of us moved in together in small apartments and some of us just left town.  We scattered, basically, after one unbelieveably densely-packed year of concentrated life together. 

But then, within several years, the verities persevered - our friendship overcame the discouragement of graduation and the onset of “adult” life.  One of us had bought a home in Philly but the other seven all moved to San Francisco.  We bbq’d together on Sundays; we summited Mt Tam on our mountainbikes; we explored restaurants and attended concerts and helped each other live fully and richly.  We challenged and supported each other.  We had an absolute blast.

Andy lived just ten doors up the street from me; Jon was about 10 blocks away; Pete, Dave, Brian and Neil were all within two miles of me and each other.  Years passed in blissful enjoyment of each other’s company.  And then Andy moved to a beautiful house atop the Berkeley hills.  Jon is now in a palace in Belmont; Brian is down in Mountain View; Pete is in San Diego, I think.  Nool is living large at 51st and 1st on the east side of midtown manhattan.  And for a few years now it’s just been Dave and me in town anymore.

Dave and Kim rent a house off upper Market, across from Kite Hill.  It’s a pretty litle place; maybe a little littler than pretty.  It was fine for them for a long time - till Daisy came along.  She takes up a lot of room.  And now baby Kaleb is hot on her trail.  That little home on the hill can’t hold them anymore.  They called over the weekend to tell us that they signed a lease and are moving to the East Bay.

I’m happy for them; they need the room.  And Albany’s a great town, right on the BART lines and close to some excellent cultural offerings.  It’s taken them forever to find this new place; the relief in their voices was palpable. 

But so was the concern - or was it disappointment? They’re leaving us.  They were the last holdouts to keep us company in this little city, and now we must go forward without them or any of our erstwhile stalwarts by our sides.  We will remain friends, and good ones, for as long as we can foresee - already we’re planning how to avoid losing touch.  But the fact is, they’re going away. They’ll be 510-ing while we’re still 415-ing.  Time has, once again, slipped past me, while I was getting the corkscrew from the kitchen.  Things aren’t going to be as easy as they used to be anymore - no more coincidental run-ins with my best friends in the grocery store or on the streets.  I’ll have to work harder to maintain contact with the critical people in my life.  But it’s totally worth it.  Once you have a friendship this deep, letting it go just isn’t an option.

When Andy left my block some years back I wrote a poem.  Now that Dave is leaving, and I’ll be the sole remaining housemate from 4008 Pine Street ‘85-86 left in town, I pulled it out of storage to re-read it.  And since it still says what I feel, I’ll post a bit of it here. 

We’ll always have parties and cocktails and chat
but never again will there be all these years
when the streets that I lived on reached out and embraced me
Arrived is the hour of opening forward
Let all of our days be reflective of these
that we spent in the serendipitous warmth of our handclasp
and may sweet shared hours inspire our actions
so the thing that is next is the thing that is best.

Here’s to a smooth move, Dave and Kim.  We’ll miss you, but you’re not getting away from us that easily.