On what was yet another miserable May morning, Elaine and I headed south to the pretty little North Yorkshire market town of Helmsley, to meet Sarah, a classmate from my primary school (York College, which I left in 1972), and someone I hadn’t seen for roughly thirty-five years.
I had actually been quite nervous the previous evening. Sarah and I had exchanged e-mails and texts since we got in touch back in January, but actually meeting her was something else altogether. I think it’s fair to say that Sarah was my "childhood sweetheart", but given that I was only seven at the time, the intervening decades meant that we were essentially strangers.
We had arranged to meet at Porter’s Coffee Shop. Elaine and I arrived at first - which was a surprise seeing as you needed a bloody degree to work the parking meter - but just a couple of minutes later a face that was more familiar than I expected appeared at the other end of the shop.
In the end, I needn’t have been nervous, the introductions and conversation were relaxed and natural, and there wasn’t a single awkward moment - well apart from feeling my cheeks start to redden as Sarah related a Valentine’s card story from the early seventies ... I’m sure I would have got her a card too.
I suppose we cross paths with so many people during our lives; in most cases those paths inevitably head off in different directions and never converge again. The fact that Sarah and I attended the same primary school was basically all we had in common, and was no real basis for adult friendship.
That said we spent a couple of very enjoyable hours in her company, heard about Sarah’s life and family and shared our own experiences and stories. Maybe our respective paths will converge again one day, maybe they won’t; but I’m glad that (even if it was only once) that they did.
I had actually been quite nervous the previous evening. Sarah and I had exchanged e-mails and texts since we got in touch back in January, but actually meeting her was something else altogether. I think it’s fair to say that Sarah was my "childhood sweetheart", but given that I was only seven at the time, the intervening decades meant that we were essentially strangers.
We had arranged to meet at Porter’s Coffee Shop. Elaine and I arrived at first - which was a surprise seeing as you needed a bloody degree to work the parking meter - but just a couple of minutes later a face that was more familiar than I expected appeared at the other end of the shop.
In the end, I needn’t have been nervous, the introductions and conversation were relaxed and natural, and there wasn’t a single awkward moment - well apart from feeling my cheeks start to redden as Sarah related a Valentine’s card story from the early seventies ... I’m sure I would have got her a card too.
I suppose we cross paths with so many people during our lives; in most cases those paths inevitably head off in different directions and never converge again. The fact that Sarah and I attended the same primary school was basically all we had in common, and was no real basis for adult friendship.
That said we spent a couple of very enjoyable hours in her company, heard about Sarah’s life and family and shared our own experiences and stories. Maybe our respective paths will converge again one day, maybe they won’t; but I’m glad that (even if it was only once) that they did.