Either their parents moved, stealing away your friend, or your parents did something so horrible - and forced you to move away from your 'life' and your friends? Either way - the safe, trusting world as you knew it was destroyed in moments!
I will never forget the day when, as a young boy growing up in Brooklyn, my very good friend Victoria Vaccariello parents made her move away from our Mill Basin community on January 25th, 1973.
I'll never forget when the moving truck containing all of her family's possessions ... taking away the Vaccariello's kitchen table, couch, and . . . Victoria!!!
Forty years later, I still remember crying on my stoop (where I was the king of stoop ball) as Victoria drove away. I was so upset that even when my parents took me to Buddy's Amusement Park to take me on some rides in hope to cheer me up, that no roller coaster was able to stop the tears.
I remember vivid details about my childhood and the time I spent with Victoria, including how we would spend so much time together, starting in the morning, when my mom would drive us to school. In fact, before she moved away, we were inseparable, so much so that I gave her chicken pox! And at times after school ended at PS 203, but always on Tuesday we would go for pizza - which, 40 years later, I now realize why I love pizza so much: it was a tradition that Victoria and I did with our parents; usually with my mom because she is a pizza fanatic, too! And now I know where the 'eating pizza on Friday nights' came from. Remembering ... we would eat pizza often at Victoria's parent's house on Friday night!
But perhaps the one thing that I remember most, and I am not exactly sure when it was, other than to know it happened during the time that I spent with my best friend during the time I was between 5 and 8 years old . . . but I started to think on my own, and as odd as it may sound, I learned that I had a voice . . . that I was an individual . . . ummm . . . with plenty to say!
Funny how looking back at that time, and reflecting about this over the last 20 hours, I realize that it was during the time that I was between 5 and 8 that the foundation of who I am took root. And who was there beside me? My best friend, Victoria.
Sadly, she moved far away, and pragmatically, the ideals of the promises of 'I will come visit you every other weekend' were out of our own control.
Now it is not a news flash that our world is becoming closer.
Amazingly closer and more connected.
I received an email message on Facebook that read:
Hi-is this the Peter from Brooklyn? I believe we were very good friends as children, until I moved to Long Island in 3rd grade. You have two younger brothers, I have two younger sisters, and my mom Peggy was friends with your mom... You gave me chicken poxMaybe you don't remember me, but ... I thought I would reach out!