Relationships⎟Nonfiction

A Re-ignited Friendship that Beat the Odds of Time and the Infant Stage of the Internet

Sometimes reaching out to an old friend is met with a closed door and sometimes it’s an embrace — here’s one story of an embrace

First, it was Nicole. We were best buddies in the first and second grades. We searched for tadpoles after it rained and even bathed and powdered our stick frogs as if they were our babies.

We’ll never be able to ask 5-year-old Natalie and Nicole how was this even a thing.

Nicole and I fought for the old red nail polish we found in a dumpster from the neighbor who threw out all her makeup in second grade. My mom made me give it to her. Can you tell — how that still stings?

But my favorite memory is when she and I both liked Justin and convinced me to write him a love letter: “Ask him if he likes you and have him check the box yes or no?”

Sadly, she left Venezuela and I moved to another state — months later.

I have always held Nicole close to my heart.

I was going into third grade in our new school, ELM. Dad took us out for dinner on a Saturday prior to the first day of school. Across the diner sat a family with three kids. They looked like regulars, and the baby girl kept running around their table with her older brother. The eldest must have been the taller girl with long black hair past her waist.

She looks friendly. I’d love to be friends with her.

Two days later my new teacher, Mrs. Talbott, and one of the greatest who ever lived might I add — introduced me to my classmates.

I couldn’t believe it! “It’s her!” I whispered to myself.

“Aren’t you that girl I saw at the restaurant this weekend?”

“Yes, it is! My name is Karina — what is yours’?”

Karina was my best friend for 5 years until she moved to the “big” city across the lake. We lived in a small town where most of the ex-pats resided as it was the bustling hub of foreign oil industry service companies.

An hour's drive (which took one across Lake Maracaibo) — would take you to the “big” city where the larger US International school was.

It would be 2 years before I joined her at the “big” high school.

When I did — she had changed, as we all do. It was my first lesson in letting go of close friendships and moving on.

Galit and I were “the new kids on the block” in the 9th grade. She had temporarily moved from Israel as her father had a 2-yr contract as a chemical engineer in Maracaibo.

She and I were inseparable for those two years they lived in Venezuela.

She dissected and shared light on the details of the Palestinian-Israeli conflict and a world I never knew. I remember more sleepovers and laughs with her than I do with any other person in my youth.

When she returned to Israel I was crushed.

I am grateful for the company, kindness, and love of other friends as I completed high school.

Some of us exchanged letters in college and picked up the phone from time to time to catch up as the years went by.

And they did.

I graduated from college and was soon married.

Do you remember Nicole from the 1st grade?

She was one of my bridesmaids — along with my three college friends, one of whom introduced me to myGuy at the infamous dinner.

Years went by — and I never forgot Galit and always hoped to get in touch with her again.

It had been 10 years later since we parted ways.

I didn’t know how to locate her as the internet was relatively new in the late 90s. There were no social media in those days. AOL Instant Messenger was the newest craze at one point.

One night, I thought — “What if I do a search for her last name?”

I did.

I found a random gentleman whose last name was Assaf, her last name. How and why I picked him — no clue.

It is important you visualize what the results page of a name search looked like in those days. To make it abundantly clear: there were no links to personal pages of any social media sites.

I emailed him describing who I was and who I was trying to find.

I didn’t get a reply until a few months later.

It turns out, this gentleman was a distant relative of Galit’s father who emailed him waiting to receive confirmation. Once Galit’s father realized who I was —

None of them could believe I had found them and the lengths I went to seek them out!

He and I exchanged emails and put me in touch with Galit.

And the rest is history.

Fifteen years had passed, and we both were married. I had three little boys and she was just pregnant with her first.

While Facebook and other social media platforms were born later which helped rekindle many friendships, I had already done the leg work to find Galit!

We kept in touch until …

…23 years later from bidding farewell in Venezuela—we met up in NYC. She had a business trip, and I lived just a 2-hour train ride away in the outer skirts of Philly.

She messaged me last week.

“Nat — let’s plan a girls’ trip together for our 50th birthday in two years!”

I’m all in!

Life was not all roses for either of us…she and I have both experienced life-altering changes that have molded our mindsets, beliefs, and personalities.

This is a story that is an exception to the rule.

I have sought to rekindle friendships often that was met with a dead end or people who placed the roadblock for staying further in touch.

It’s a sore spot. I grieve those losses from time to time.

However, this story demonstrates that if you’re not willing to reach out and try, you’ll never know what meets you at the other end. It could be a closed door — but what if it’s a friendship bud that blossoms even further?

📚Thanks for reading. Have you ever found an old friend? How did that pan out? Share with me in the comments or write a story! Please tag me as I would love to read it! ✍🏽

I invite you to read a touching poem about childhood friendships that sometimes are gone too soon…🥀 thanks for writing Benighted