BRUSSELS, BELGIUM —
It has taken me this long to write another column because I have been pondering one of the experiences I lived in my recent travels. Trying to put emotions into words is difficult but I needed the time to understand my emotions . So here goes.
In returning to the place where I grew up, I was hoping to meet some of my old friends. Since some of them are on Facebook, I sent a message out to them: “ Come meet me tomorrow at 11 A.M. at the Grand-Place.” (O.K. My note was in French. And the Grand-Place is a large historic cobblestone square in the middle of Brussels, Belgium, that is surrounded by golden gilded buildings. It is a well known spot.) After sending out the message, I was ambivalent.
On the one hand, I was hoping that my invite would get through and yet I feared that no one would show up. In my mind, I imagined that it had been so long since I had seen these friends, that, number one, maybe no would come. Number two, maybe this encounter would sorely disappoint me, leaving me alone and riddled with memories that had no legs and no heart. Number three, it would be a nice outing, satisfying my curiosity about my youth.
At the appointed time, Jim and I made our way to the Grand-Place. It was a beautifully sunny day with a clear blue sky. We walked through a small square where tents were set up for the antique market and people were sitting at sidewalk cafes drinking their morning coffee. We strolled past the famous Manneken Pis (a fountain that portrays a small boy answering nature’s call, a wink to Belgium’s earthy culture).
Focused as I was on the rendezvous, I ignored the gatherings of tourists taking pictures of the famous boy and felt a few butterflies in my stomach. Finally, we arrived on the square. Slowly we started circling clockwise, keeping our eyes open for familiar faces changed by time. I held Jim’s hand, feeling nervous. All of a sudden, I heard a kind recognizable voice saying, “I like this little game. Walking around, looking for our friends...” And before I knew it, I was hugging Ariane and then turned around to see Martin and Christine, and we were all embracing as though we had never let go those many years ago.
For the next two hours, the five of us became one of those gatherings at a sidewalk cafe. Sitting in the sunny Place with these friends, I found myself letting go, free of any expectations or restraints. I was perfectly me again as I had been with them before. We laughed, we cried, we caught up on our lives but mainly we connected on a level so deep that the passage of time could not touch the bottom. All that I had let go when I left these friends and my hometown came right back into my heart.
We all should know friends like these, who know us to our depths and who will be there when we need them, despite all that has happened since we last met. And so, as we gave each other hugs and walked away, we talked about our next get-together, in a year when I’m back in town, this time around food. “I want to cook a meal for all of you,” I said. They all laughed and said, “But you’’ll be the guest!...”
At right is my most recent go-to vinaigrette recipe, perfect for the new local greens and veggies coming on.
Life
Columnist’s reunion invite warmly accepted
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