Nothing beckons back to our treasured childhood like linking arms with true friends. There is a genuine depth of devotion immediately summoned from thin air with those who shared our little plans and big dreams of so long ago, a time when we were all new here.
There are days that come to us with gifts beyond measure, but only if we take the time to revel in them.
The Likes family lived across the fields from us when we were children. Jerry and Carmen Likes were just a bit older than my parents, both having served honorably in World War II, and when they came to live near us, my parents welcomed them with open arms. My father had known Jerry quite well through the years as a cousin to his boyhood pals, and Carmen and my young mother became instant friends.
Jerry and Carmen had two boys, eventually followed by four girls, matching up wonderfully with the four of us girls in our household. We adored this family. Picnics, games, dinner nights held at one another’s home, sleepovers, along with spending rainy days together in the barns of our youth — we were inseparable. We all welcomed baby Joyce Likes when I was 3 years old with pure joy as though this tiny pink bundle belonged to all of us.
It was the summer I was about to start first grade that we learned Jerry was taking a job in Milan, Ohio. The family would be moving. We were heartbroken. Their oldest son, Greg, was about to start his senior year of high school. It speaks volumes on the closeness of the parents when it was decided Greg, who often helped on our farm, would be moving in with us so he could remain in our local school.
We visited the Likes family in their new hometown, but it wasn’t an easy drive for a busy dairy farm family, about an hour or so north of us. Special events brought us together, and the love that lived between us never faded.
All four parents having passed away, and with five of the six Likes children living in other states, it had been far too long since we had seen one another.
This past week, a walk down memory lane brought Ava, Kathy, Carmen and Joyce back to us, and to their childhood community. As I planned a day for the eight of us in the weeks before their arrival, my excitement grew.
The minute I hugged Ava, best friend to my oldest sister, the years just melted away. There were hugs and laughter and tears all around as eight women became those eight happy girls all over again.
Joyce, who was so very young when the family moved away, later told me she wasn’t really drawn back to Jeromesville as her sisters were, surely because she was just too young to hold a trove of memories here. “It turns out that doesn’t make one bit of difference — being here, seeing you all, this is just magical.”
We arranged to have their childhood Methodist church opened for them, and Kathy instantly said, “I see our pew — this is where our family sat, always together, every Sunday!” It brought cameras out, memories rushing back. Ava said, “Yes — it was right there where I sang my first church solo. And I bet it was awful!” The laughter flowed, and so did some tears, stepping back to touch the sweet souls who helped to raise us.
Gathered around a table at my sister Debi’s home, we enjoyed catching up over lunch, sharing highlights of our varied paths. We could have talked and laughed for days, the spark of camaraderie enveloping us as though no time had passed.
In those long-ago days, we shared our siblings and our parents, sleeves of saltines on lazy days of our childhood, tiny cups of Kool-Aid and silly secrets. The love our parents shared for each one of us, though not related by blood, was truly rare and wonderful, deep and wide. What a gift that was; what a blessing it continues to be.
“Your mother had the unique gift of making me feel so special,” I said, and I meant it with my whole heart. “Your mother did the same!” one of the Likes sisters said.
How lucky were we? How lucky, still. We met more than 60 years ago, life sent us in varied directions, with other states now called home. But on one perfect sunny June day in Ohio, we found our true north in one another, once again.
