Cheryl, Cynthia, Mary, Oleita
I hadn't thought of her in awhile, so when my husband, who was traveling in Tennessee about 20 years ago said, "You'll never guess, in a million years, who I met," he was right.
We were about five years old and coaxed into ballet and tap dancing classes by our overly-confident parents. I truly don't remember if she was good, or not, but I still cringe today, after 50 + years just thinking of my stumbling and bumbling around the dance floor. And, ooooh, those awful recitals!
Still, my inability to dance didn't stop me from taking 25 or so bows after a less than perfect performance. (see picture below)"Go ahead. Guess!" He coaxed. "C'mon. It's someone you haven't seen since you were 8 years old!"
Well, that certainly narrows it down! "I have no clue." It was late, and I was getting a little annoyed at the guessing game.
"Oleita Cook!" He shouted.
My mind flew, immediately, to pink tu-tus and Oleita, the pretty, dark-haired friend who had, in my juvenile mind, simply disappeared, unceremoniously, from my life."Wha...who...how...?" was about all I managed to stammer.
I won't go into the whole story, but my husband was searching for a business lease location and had been put in touch with a realtor. As luck (karma, in this case) would have it, the landlord was late so the realtor invited my husband to go across the street for an ice cream cone. They began talking and he discovered that she was from Southern Indiana.
"My wife's from Southern Indiana."
The realtor told him she was born in Corydon
"My WIFE grew up in Corydon!"
And so, after many, many decades, Oleita Cook (now, Norton) and I were reunited. If anyone reading this doesn't believe in fate, then...well, I have nothing for you.
Oleita is still a realtor, a successful one at that. She still lives in Tennessee with her husband. We just visited them a couple of weeks ago and had another good laugh about that fateful ice cream caper. "Had it been winter, ice cream wouldn't have been an option and we probably wouldn't have spent the time talking," she said.
Go figure. All I know is that we will always remain fast friends. Some bonds are never broken.
She's also a WOOFer and proud of it!
Gravy Train is her WOOF name! On our last visit, we talked about being WOOFers, and how freeing it is to reach the age where confidence is no longer something we strive to achieve. We have it! We're WOOFers!
If you have a story you'd like to tell about a long-time friendship, or a new friendship that feels like you've know each other forever, let us know!
E-mail GreatDames@woofersclub.com. We might publish your story! Oh, and pick a WOOFer name for yourself, too.
Photo at the bottom: Left to right, Cynthia, Cheryl, Yours Truly and Oleita
Mary (Milkbone)
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