Last week, I got invited to a goodbye party for a former college roommate. She and her husband have sent the kids off to their next stages in life, the house is huge and rambling, too much for them and their needs. Her parents are in need of support and care back home, he has a job here in DC. So she's moving up there, he's moving into an apartment close to work.
It was also their birthday - their shared birthday, which I always thought was cute. So they had a birthday party/goodbye party.
Since I moved down here in 2017, she and I had discussed getting together. They live over an hour west, and it always feels insurmountable with I-66 being such a nightmare to drive on. And with me working full time. And then the pandemic, like, no. I can't really go anywhere.
But with her imminent departure from the area, and uncertainty about when we'd even get the chance to see each other, I figured, well. This is your chance to go see them, and spend some time, and make up for the years since moving here in 2017 and the years since we last saw each other - at a wedding in 1993. Jess was 14 months old. I still have a beautiful picture of them playing on a blanket with the Noah's Ark little people bath toy that we brought along, sweaty curls, flushed skin, big smile.
Thankfully Doug came with me, see my feelings on driving on I-66 above. The party was at a beer farm in Virginia, and it was a beautiful setting for some fun. And there was beer. We got there late, because we both had to work, and didn't manage to get our shit together to get out the door until 5 when the party started at 4. We knew it'd be at least an hour before we got there. I warned her we'd be late and not to leave. We were coming.
She said they'd wait.
Folks were in the process of leaving when we rolled up. She was thrilled when we walked up into the pavilion to join the gathering, and he acted like we were his very best friends that he hadn't seen in forever, which is weird because in College we didn't have any connection other than the fact he was dating my roommate and would sometimes be in our room. We were embraced with enthusiasm, brought to the bar to get beer on his tab. We talked mostly with him for quite a while as she was social butterflying around people, and he was more than happy to talk about Boston and how much he missed living there.
We had a good time catching up with them both and meeting a couple of their friends. The brewery closed at 9 and I believe we were the last people there.
I don't really want to write in depth about some of the things her husband told me and Doug (which Doug could not believe he was saying). But suffice to say, it became obvious the sale of the house, and moving to separate locations isn't just them making a plan for the next stage of their relationship and family care, there isn't a relationship between them any longer.
Not only was this a shared birthday party for their shared birthday, and a bon voyage party for them moving, it was an end to the marriage send-off. This was it.
As we were some of the last people there (two other local friends stuck around to make sure they got home safe) it got teary but it never got snipey or ugly. A few burning glances across the table from her when he'd say something stupid.
But there wasn't a level of drama brought to a drunken end of a gathering that say my family would have turned up to 11. It just was. It is what it is.
Their friends drove them home, to the house they'd lived in for 5 years, where her stuff was packed in to her car for the morning departure. He was in charge of the rest of the move, and his own relocation.
They'd stay one more night before she left, probably not speaking to each other. Maybe they would have harsh words then, having kept everything from boiling over at the party. Doubtful they'd sleep together (that vibe was pretty strong) and she'd be gone in the morning.
In college, she and I weren't really close or good friends. We lived in the same room and that's the extent of it.
I am a few years older than she and our other roommate are (see the wedding above). The two of them had a tight closeness, I was on the periphery and that was okay. They were freshmen or maybe sophomores, I was a third time senior at that point.
She was an only child, her parents older than mine (for instance, her dad is about to turn 90. My dad is 81 and my mom is in her late 70s). She was spoiled, and rich. She would come into the room at all hours of the night after hanging out with friends, and her "only child" behaviours were apparent. The overhead lights would be flung on instead gently of walking over to her desk and turning on the low light. The other roommate and I were usually already in bed, fast asleep. And then she'd talk in not a whisper but a loud and boisterous tone with the other roomie, who didn't mind getting woken up as much as I did. After all, there were stories to tell about her late night shenanigans. She'd turn on music. She listened to French music, having lived in France for a while. She'd sing. Jesus, God, help me she'd be over there singing in French and I had an 8am class.
It was at times brutal to live with someone who had literally never had to share time and space with others. We would have arguments about it, the other roomie and I trying to convince her how to act like other people were on the planet too.
Eventually she started to get it, but I often was overwhelmed with the concepts of what selfishness does to relationships. The other roommate was the middle child of three girls (funnily enough, she then had 3 girls herself!) so she was always sensitive to space sharing and quiet time. We established guidelines: If it's after 11? Do not turn on the overhead lights. Try not to crank up the tunes and sing out loud and turn every light in the room on. And for fucks sake, do not sing a bunch of French pop songs.
Especially if your roommate works full time to try and pay for college, and has to go to classes, and everything. You'll thank me later when I bring home a buttload of Croissants from the bakery I worked night shift at. If you want to enjoy the things I bring back, start acting like I matter. We left college on good terms. And that was nice, because at the bottom of everything, she indeed was nice, smart, and fun.
When Doug and I got to the party, after we found out about their separation, she pulled me aside and asked me "was it weird of me to include him? To invite him to this?"
I told her that no I didn't think it was at all. It was as much his birthday as hers, as much his last hurrah as hers, and it was obvious that these were his friends too.
The most selfish person I'd known at one time had done something inclusive, for someone she probably can't stand being around at all anymore. And I thought that was pretty amazing.
So she's off. She's with her parents. She posted pictures on Facebook of taking her dad out for ice cream. It was quite adorable. She messaged me yesterday to thank us for coming to the party, apologized if it was weird or awkward for us. I told her it sort of was, but I get it and it does not diminish my love for her.
Maybe let's not wait 30 something years to spend some time together again.
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