Dear Kevin,
I am so very saddened about what you have told me regarding Undine. It
wasn't that long ago that I was entertaining my kids at the dinner
table with remembrances of my friend Enidu and her younger brothers
Kram and Nivek. We all wondered what became of you all.
I am just amazed that you and your mother remember me. I don't even
remember me from back then. In fact, I remember distressingly little
about anything to do with those years. I lived in a tiny house with my
mother, younger sister and a father who drank heavily and had a
volatile and unpredictable temper. I think I must have retreated into
my own little world and tried not to be noticed most of the time.
Consequently, I think a lot of things must also have escaped my notice.
I do remember that I was infatuated with Undine the moment I saw her,
which must have been the first day of third grade. She looked like a
princess to me. I wished fervently that I could be her friend, never
for a moment thinking that that was even a remote possibility. But
miraculously she wanted to be my friend, too and so we became.
Visiting your house was like entering a fairy tale to me. It was an
escape from my own life. I only remember a few details of our visits:
sleeping over on the floor of her bedroom downstairs, your dog
Duchess, eating lamb chops and blueberry muffins for dinner (still one
of my favorite combinations!), walking down the road to ramble through
some seemingly vast wooded area, making prank phone calls from Gary
Doolittle's kitchen, going along to one of her riding lessons(?),
going to your swim club, Trick or Treating together one Halloween...
But they're all just disparate memories that don't make a complete
story. I don't remember what we talked about. I think I was just happy
to be in her presence and never sought anything more.
I don't know when or why we drifted apart. As I recall, she was quite
popular. I think we started 7th grade in the same Jr. High but we
weren't in any classes together. Then you moved from Gulph Mills. I
know I spent one night in your new house and once she came with me to
a dance at the Jr. High. I think I missed her but maybe I just didn't
know how to maintain our relationship under changing circumstances.
The only other thing I remember was the last time I saw her. It must
have been August 1976. I really wanted to see her again before I left
for college at Penn State. I just got in the car one Friday evening
and drove to the house where I had last visited her. Alas, your family
had moved again, but the present owner kindly told me your new
address. I was able to find the house and she answered the door when I
knocked. You and Mark were watching TV. I think Undine and I talked
for a while in the kitchen. Your father came home and chatted for a
bit, then I left and drove back home.
No one else ever filled her place. In reality, I don't know whether
she even filled the place I constructed for her in my memory. I think
that might have been the impetus for trying to find her--to gain some
insight and perspective on what really happened, what life was really
like. Those questions may never get answered now. Instead there are
only more: How? Why? What if?
After Penn State, I went to graduate school and got a PhD in
Geophysics from Princeton, where I met my husband Bruce. I worked on
the research staff first at Cornell then at Lawrence Livermore
Laboratory in CA. Bruce was hired as a professor at the University of
Minnesota and we moved here in January 1991. I tried to continue my
research here for about ten years, then I dropped out of the science
community and started learning how to make and design different kinds
of textiles, which has been a life-long interest of mine. I don't know
whether it will lead anywhere, but I am just trying to enjoy the
process. I have two children--my daughter Irene, 13 and son Harrison,
8 1/2 (I started a little late). I'm so glad Undine had children of
her own.
You are so kind to take the time to write to me. It means a lot to me.
I would welcome the opportunity to stay in touch. Thank you for the
invitation to visit--I would like that very much. And please stop and
see us if your are ever in the neighborhood of Minneapolis. Please
give my regards to your mom. I hope you will write back if you have
the time and inclination.
Sincerely,
BJ
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