Several days ago, I was running to pick up lunch. In the car, I heard a very brief part of an interview on NPR’s Fresh Air. The host was interviewing Greta Gerwig who plays the title character of the film Frances Ha. I believe Gerwig co-wrote the screenplay with director Noah Baumbach.
I only caught a small part of the interview, and am not really interested in the movie, but Gerwig made an interesting statement that’s stuck with me. She said:
“You don’t know when the last time of something happening is. You don’t know what the last great day you’ll spend with your best friend is. You’ll just know when you’ve never had that day again.”
This sentiment struck me, and I got a melancholy feeling thinking of times and people past. Many still a part of my life, but many cast to the distance of time, geography, or life’s natural momentum.
I started thinking of some of these great days. Some were shared with or created by people who are still very much a part of my life, and so I’m not ready to believe we’ve had our last great day.
These times include visits to the North Carolina mountains with my friend Glenda. We visit often one of the days before Thanksgiving. I remember one year meeting on the Tuesday before the holiday, and basically having run of downtown Boone, and the little business district of Blowing Rock. It was a misty cool day. While some might prefer a bright sunny day, I enjoyed the muffled sounds and soft outlines of the foggy mist. We laughed and joked, and just enjoyed the slow easy pace. There will be other trips and other great times.
I remember frequent Sunday afternoons here in Tampa at the home of our friends Jeff and Mike. Mike would cook dinner, and we’d play Shanghai. This even included a hurricane evacuation to Orlando from Tampa in 2004, right into the eventual path of Hurricane Charlie. We spent the afternoon playing cards. I’d get picked on the entire game for being slow in my decisions for my next move. We’re still friends with both, but they parted ways, so we no longer have those Sunday afternoons.
However, there are experiences which I have strong reason to suspect fit within this category of “last great days.”
A group of high school friends would rent a house for a week each summer at Myrtle Beach. This went on after graduation, and started to include some college friends of mine. Those were some great times. One summer we met some guys from Pittsburgh there with their parents. I became close friends with one of them, Bill. My first visit to Pittsburgh was a visit with him, and I had a great time. As is so often the case, our contacts have lessened over the years, and we haven’t been in touch in a long time.