Afternoons with Judi

It was Judi who informed me that those slimy, bug-riddled things growing in the forest were mushrooms, and threw me off Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom soup for years.

 

It was Judi who, upon seeing a spider crawling on my forearm with my permission, said she was afraid of spiders, and I decided I should be, too.

 

It was Judi who said she thought spaghetti noodles with just butter, salt, and pepper were the best, and thereafter, I found she was right and prefer them just that way.

 

And, it was Judi who, as we walked to the school bus stop one chilly October morning, shared with me the little red jewels called pomegranate seeds that she carried on the salty lid of a Planter’s Cocktail Peanut can.   My first taste of a fruit with a surprising pop of tangy juice was so elusive that I wondered afterward if I really had tasted that goodness or had imagined it.

Our neighborhood gathering in the 1950s.   Judi and I are in this photo, but I won't point us out in the interests of her privacy.   Actually, it's because I didn't ask her permission because......well, it's easier to ask for forgiveness.

 

Judi is my friend from my 1950s childhood.   She and I lost touch decades ago when life took us in separate directions, and I made efforts to locate her through Facebook, to no avail.  

 

I dreamed about her recently.  Another friend “presented” Judi to me in that dream.   I saw her as a princess or a figure of royalty, her slender figure clothed in a sparkly silver, pencil-thin gown enhanced with ruffs of white ermine fur at the neck and sleeves.

 

I thought about Judi almost constantly for a couple of days after that dream and decided it was time once again to try to locate her.

 

So, you can understand how flummoxed I was two days after the dream when I answered my phone and a lady said, “This is Judi.”