Is There Anything Better Than Old Friends?

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My childhood friend Sheila Wallet kept every letter and piece of paper that I had ever sent to her from 1973-1989. Sheila emailed me a few years ago and asked me if I wanted all the old letters and newspaper clippings I had sent her throughout the years.  When I received them they were neatly piled and carefully dated with the envelopes stapled to the letters. 

 

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Sheila had always been the loyal friend that I waited for every morning, at approximately 8:35 on Albert Street, to walk to school. She had experienced most of my life first hand and was one of the very few friends who turned up at my father’s funeral in Quebec. We have not seen each other in years but deep down we both know that the other is still there and both of us still value and cherish our friendship

There has not been a day that has gone by that I do not think of Sheila and her family. Her father taught me how to ride a bike, and her mother always had nothing but kind words. Just because you lose contact from time to time, does not mean that you forget.

 

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 I read about the beginnings of my stores in the early 70’s and then saw clippings from magazines and newspapers with my designs in it. I wrote about wanting a child at the age of 25. In reality my first born, Schuyleur, arrived in my life when I was 35.

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The very last correspondence was a fax dated Sept 03, 1989. I had told Sheila that I was planning to close my store in 1994 which eventually did not close until eight years later. Sheila had told me it was a good idea and that I should pursue a career in politics.

Years had flown by, yet it all still seemed like yesterday. It felt like we were still in her old basement and her mother was banging on the floor above us with a broom because she had endured enough of the song, “Satisfaction” by The Rolling Stones.

 

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I stood next to the dryer today waiting for the cycle to end with tears flowing down my face. How did life go by so fast? Where did it go?

I sighed and pulled the clothes out of the dryer. It felt like I made a 360 as they say and had briefly visited my past life for a few fleeting hours like “A Christmas Carol”. But, there were no ghosts and no evil deeds that had been done. It had just been our life and it had not been such a bad life. We had both survived and that, my friends, is a feat in itself. 

 

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Sheila and I both tried to make a difference to people in our lives. Who knew when we first became friends at the age of 2, what our destiny would be like.  But if I die tomorrow, I know that I have tried.  Just like Sheila and all the rest of my die-hard friends, who have never given up on me no matter what. I know that we are all grateful for everything, including each other. From the bottom of my heart I am blessed  to call these people and others my friends for the past few decades. Memories always last even if the contact has lost some of its screws. Friends are the family we choose for ourselves, and— I just can’t seem to get any satisfaction without all of you.:)

Today is a day to salute your friends!

ADl8LMi

 

Photos:

Linda Knight Seccaspina and Sheila Wallet Needham- 1950s Coney Island

Marion, Linda and Jacki 2015 –30 year reunuion

Jimmy, Ron and Linda 2015

Sheila Wallet Needham and grandchildren 2014

Wanita Bates

Catherine Landry

Daniel Richer dit Lafleche 2015

Daniel Richer dit Lafleche 2015 Carleton Place Santa Parade

Daniel Richer dit Lafleche and the late Michelle Cadieux with my Fred

Gabrielle Studor

Wanda Jane and Michael Lefleur

The Mysterious Shawn Scallen ? (hates photos) so no photo of him LOL

Dennis Charlebois

Denis de Laviolette

 

 

About lindaseccaspina

Linda Knight Seccaspina was born in Cowansville, Quebec about the same time as the wheel was invented and the first time she realized she could tell a tale was when she got caught passing her smutty stories around in Grade 7 at CHS by Mrs. Blinn. When Derek "Wheels" Wheeler from Degrassi Jr. High died in 2010, Linda wrote her own obituary. Some people said she should think about a career in writing obituaries. Before she laid her fingers to a keyboard, Linda owned the eclectic store Flash Cadilac and Savannah Devilles in Ottawa from 1976-1996. After writing for years about things that she cared about or pissed her off she finally found her calling. Is it sex drugs and rock n' roll you might ask? No, it is history. Seeing that her very first boyfriend in Grade 5 (who she won a Twist contest with in the 60s) is the head of the Brome Misissiquoi Historical Society and also specializes in local history back in Quebec, she finds that quite funny. She writes every single day and is also a columnist for Hometown News and Screamin's Mamas. She is a volunteer for the Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum, an admin for the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page, and a local guest speaker. She has been now labelled an historian by the locals which in her mind is wrong. You see she will never be like the iconic local Lanark County historian Howard Morton Brown, nor like famed local writer Mary Cook. She proudly calls herself The National Enquirer Historical writer of Lanark County, and that she can live with. Linda has been called the most stubborn woman in Lanark County, and has requested her ashes to be distributed in any Casino parking lot as close to any Wheel of Fortune machine as you can get. But since she wrote her obituary, most people assume she's already dead. Linda has published six books, "Menopausal Woman From the Corn," "Cowansville High Misremembered," "Naked Yoga, Twinkies and Celebrities," "Cancer Calls Collect," "The Tilted Kilt-Vintage Whispers of Carleton Place," and "Flashbacks of Little Miss Flash Cadilac." All are available at Amazon in paperback and Kindle. Linda's books are for sale on Amazon or at Wisteria · 62 Bridge Street · Carleton Place, Ottawa, Canada, and at the Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum · 267 Edmund Street · Carleton Place, Ottawa, Canada--Appleton Museum-Mississippi Textile Mill and Mill Street Books and Heritage House Museum and The Artists Loft in Smith Falls.

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