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And So it Goes

Alys, Grade 5

Earlier this year, a then-anonymous reader commented on a post written over ten years ago. She found the piece about my formative years in Millbrae by searching: “Millbrae behind the tracks 1970’s.” She added the name Cindy.

I didn’t remember Cindy by name at first. We had been friends for a year before heading to different high schools. Shortly after, our family moved to Santa Clara County. After she got in touch, we wrote back and forth by email before connecting on Facebook.

Cindy shared: 

“You will not believe how I came across you! I was reading a biography of Mary Martin, and I recalled watching Peter Pan on TV when I spent the night with you and your sister at your apartment in Jr. High. The neighborhood struck me. I didn’t know the area “behind the tracks.” It’s not that I was living in the high end of Millbrae by any means, but I was surprised by what I saw. So, while reading the book and remembering that evening, I thought of you.”

“While reading your article, I got chills when you mentioned a shy, freckle-faced girl at the end. I knew it! I’m so happy to find you well and happy!”

We’ve been trading memories of our brief friendship, each of us remembering small details. I remembered that she had an old cat and a new puppy. I’ve always loved animals but we weren’t allowed to have pets in our rented apartment. Visiting them at her house would have been a treat.

We attended a party on New Year’s Eve at Cindy’s house, perhaps the first of its kind my protective mother let us attend. Cindy shared a memory of a sleepover at her place when we heard a noise and she called the police. It amounted to nothing, but those sorts of memories live on. My sister Sharon, who is just a year younger, can’t remember anything from this time. I wish I could remember more.

Cindy also shared parts of her early life that I never knew, including the trauma of unfit parents, time in an orphanage, and eventually, in foster care. She had a positive experience in the orphanage, including hot meals, warm pajamas, kids to play with, and toys, none of which she had with her birth parents. By the time we met, she was living in a warm and caring environment with her foster mother, though her foster dad died when she was a young girl. That may have been what brought us together all those years ago, though any chance of capturing that memory seems elusive.

I wish the plethora of pleasant memories could bury the old ones, but they don’t. We are the product of our experiences and how we use them to maneuver through a complex world. Publishing Train Tracks of My Youth rekindled a long-forgotten friendship with a friend who survived her own trauma, and thrived.

And so it goes.

You can read the full post Train Tracks of My Youth here.

26 thoughts on “And So it Goes”

  2. How lovely that you had the opportunity to reconnect with your friend, Cindy. It sounds like you have some very rich conversations when had the chance to share about your lives, both then and now. Finding old friends is one of the better outgrowths of social media.

    I don’t think I’ve read the post you’ve referenced, but I would like to! I will. ❤️

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  3. I have just read that post Alys and it is indeed sad. I think almost everyone has had some kind of trauma in their childhood that revisits them occasionally, triggered by a name, a smell, a song on the radio. I do hope your ‘acquaintance’ doesn’t visit too often. How lovely to reconnect with an old friend though!

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    • It was nice reconnecting; it was extraordinary how she found me via this blog.

      I’m sure you’re right about childhood trauma. The most significant difference is that people can be more open about it, and there are many resources to help them cope.

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  8. I’ve been thinking about the holes in our memories as well. It’s interesting what sticks and what goes away as well as what can trigger the memory. I’m so glad you have both made it through most of the fires of life and still beautiful and wonderful people. I know for sure that you are. Good people are drawn to you so I’m sure your friend is too. I’ll go back and check out the other post. Your smile is still the same. Adorable.

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    • Thank you, MH. You are always generous with your comments and insights. Memory is a fascinating thing. It comes and goes on a whim, it can be accurate or faulty, and as you’ve said, it can be triggered by so many things.

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  10. Alys, I have always admired your courage, that sits alongside your compassion. while those memories persist, you have not allowed tham to define you. I am so pleased that your life has been of your own choosing and that, like your garden, you have created a magical place. 💜 Big hugs to you.

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