Long, long ago

Curiouser and curiouser, turn the gardens through the doorways of my life. It would have been enough with my mother's sisters wishing to induct me back into the family, and a livelier correspondence rising with a cherished cousin, Cathy, on my father's side.

But now turning up are friends from long, long ago, whom I didn't know how to contact, and thought I might never see again.

My favourite is Sarah, my girlfriend from grade 13: intelligent, literate, classy and funny. She had a slight Scottish accent back then. I'm glad I didn't complicate her life by continuing to date her, but we lost contact in 1983, and I was so glad to receive a condolence card from her a few days ago, with an email address. It sounds like she has led a wandering life, too, and we must have nearly crossed paths in Toronto a gazillion times.

She had the email address of another school friend, Scott, who came out long before me, in 1985. I knew he had lived in London, Ontario, for a while, and tried to track him down there during the past year, to no avail. Turns out he is now a psychotherapist and lives in Provincetown.

But the strangest contact of all had nothing to do with Mom's death. As a child I had pen pals all over the world: England, Scotland, South Africa, Rhodesia, Ghana, Australia, Singapore, and other places I don't remember. But the best of all was Sumudu from Sri Lanka. We corresponded for years, probably until our mid teens, 30 years ago. I have lost the letters, and wouldn't have had a clue how to find her.

A week ago Sunday afternoon, Sumudu phoned. On a whim she had found "Poplar Bluff, Ontario" on Google Earth, and since Dad still lives there, was able to contact him. Her family—a husband and two children, slightly younger than mine—lives in Sydney, Australia. She lives and works part of the year there, part in Switzerland, and says I have a place to stay if ever I want to travel to those parts.

I've been writing lots of long, newsy emails lately.