Old Inner Circle Friends

Sometimes I forget not everyone knows that my dad died. We all have an inner circle of friends that are the people who know just about everything. The ones on the short list, who get the phone call when a baby is born, who you have dinner parties with, who you call first when tragedy hits your life. Then there are the people who surround the inner circle; those who might not get a call directly from the person who has experienced the life changing event; those who find out third person.

When I was in grammar school, my inner circle changed. It grew from one person--Bill Lessnig--to several people--Dean Drozak, Tony James, Jeff Hagen, Tom Bray, Jimmy Vanacora, and Jerry Andrews. Jerry Andrews got me thinking about this today. About how inner circles change. About who, when I was in grammar school, I would have called to tell that my father died. I haven't spoken with Jerry in 20+ years. He reached out to me today on Facebook.

None of the guys from my childhood were in my inner circle when I was 37. For whatever reason, we just grew apart. Lives moved us in different directions; not better, just different.

It's not that I don't consider these people friends anymore. In fact, just the opposite. We have memories--childhood memories--that I don't share with my adult inner circle. Memories like sitting in Jerry's garage, listening to Rush, pretending we were Rush. Memories like riding our bikes to White Hen and 7-11 to buy some candy (I'm not sure I've ever bought candy with my current inner circle...beer, YES, candy, NO). Innocent memories, shaping memories, nostalgic memories.

Jerry has memories about my father. If you asked me, they were probably things I would have preferred to forget. Like the time Jerry and I were prank calling Tony James. His mom got mad and told my dad. I tried to lie my way out of the impending beating I would get if my dad discovered the truth. I tried to insist that we had nothing to do with the irritating calls that the James house received. There was no such thing as caller ID or *69. It wasn't even a thing back then. The truth came out, and Jerry had to witness the wrath of my dad. Not directed toward him, but right at me. When my dad was ready to punish, he didn't care who was present. I remember looking at Jerry when the first slap connected with my face. He appeared more frightened than me.

No matter whether Jerry remembers this specific incident or not, he was nice enough to ask about my dad in his correspondence. He had no idea what I was going to reply. His parents are still alive, so he probably assumed the same was true with me.

When I wrote the words, "my dad died in 2007," I felt bad for Jerry. He was once in my inner circle; he deserved to hear the words directly from me, not written on a screen.

I guess even old inner circle friends understand how life works. He wasn't angry, he didn't hold a grudge. In fact, just the opposite. He wrote:


Today was a good day. I connected with Cory and Jeff once again. I am happy to have had the pleasure to have both as my friends at one time. Now over twenty years we can start again. Funny how much I believe the tech age has hurt and helped us today. Glad to have you here again...feel like going to that foundation behind Jeff's house and looking for tadpoles :)