By Karen Galatz
RENO, Nevada — As we age, we frequent the Land of Good-byes. The good-byes are sometimes large. Sometimes small. Sometimes subtle or merely annoying. Others hit like tsunamis. We lose keys. We lose mobility. We lose loved ones.
As we age, the good-byes increase. The “social” calendar becomes populated with memorial services and yahrzeit reminders. It becomes harder, even for the most gregarious of us, to make new friends. It becomes easier to say “no” to new adventures and relationships for fear of future goodbyes.
Yet, lucky me, I recently got to shout “Hello.” Instead of issuing another mournful “Good-bye,” I experienced the unexpected sense that my world and my family had not shrunk but expanded.
The source of this tremendous joy was a reunion with a “little boy” I had known a long time ago — 52 years ago, to be precise.
Today, of course, he’s not a little boy, but a grown, married man — a really tall man. At 63 years of age, my friend stands a powerful 6’4”.
Danny served 39 years in the Coast Guard and continues to work for the service, conducting search and rescue operations — saving lives across a vast swath of the Pacific Ocean in Southern California.
He was 10 when we met. I was 18, a camp counselor in Las Vegas, Nevada, where we both lived. We hit it off and became pals, sort of big sister, little brother.
For several years, we’d get together off and on. He’d come to my house and spend time with my family, dinners, swimming, watching TV, and playing ping pong. My father especially adored Danny and took him places like Jai Lai at the MGM Hotel, which was a huge, glamorous treat for all of us. I’d go to Danny’s house and have dinner with his big family, which was fun for me. I loved the noise and chaos and teasing of his jostling clan.
At some point, the friendship faded. No particular reason. I went off to graduate school and semesters in Europe. Work on the East Coast. Marriage. Children.
Then, in 2022, I got an email — “Remember me?”
And just last month, Danny, his amazing wife, Amy, my husband, and I finally got together for dinner.
In the days leading up to the big reunion, I worried. After reminiscing, what would we have to say to each other? A dinner can be a long meal for idle chit-chat.
What if our political views were wildly different? That could be awkward.
What if Danny, my husband, and I were having a grand old time, but his wife was bored … or boring?
What if this? What if that?
Well, my worries were for nothing.
From the first bear hug on, it was laughter and non-stop conversation. When Danny and I finally hit the pause button on old stories and had caught up on a half-century of family “news,” Amy regaled us with hilarious stories about her wild childhood as the daughter of a Las Vegas casino debt collector mom that included showing up at will readings. Now, as a reporter, I knew mobsters, but grown-up Amy worked for mobsters, or as we say, alleged mobsters, in their casinos. So, between us all, there was a lot of conversational ground to cover!
And if Danny hadn’t recaptured my heart by dessert, he sure as anything grabbed it firmly when we parted when he said, “I’m so sorry your dad is not around anymore. I really would have liked to have seen him again. I loved it when he’d sit me down in the living room after dinner and we talked. He always made me feel like a king.”
Can you imagine what that was like for a little boy from a big, busy family? To get that kind of attention? I can picture the two of them sinking into our plush gold velvet living chairs, my bald father puffing on a big cigar, skinny Danny wiggling and sinking down in the big plush chair, all grins and buck teeth. It makes my heart ache in the best of ways.
Since parting, we’ve exchanged multiple messages. We’ve discussed books, even planning on reading one together to discuss. Yes, with both parents and my two older brothers long gone, it feels wonderful to have my “little brother” back in my life, to feel that my family has been renewed. Through this unexpected reconnection, I’ve stepped back into the warm, glowing Land of Hello’s.
It is a joyful reminder of our religion’s morning prayers, which include thanks for life, loved ones, and new possibilities. Amen.
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You can read more of Karen’s work at Muddling through Middle Age or contact her at karen@muddling.me.