I never meant to cause you any sorrow
I never meant to cause you any pain
I only wanted one time to see you laughing
I only want to see you laughing in the purple rain

Purple rain, purple rain
Purple rain, purple rain
Purple rain, purple rain

I met my friend Ann way back in 7th grade, circa 1987, and a year later we had hit it off, sharing most of the honor courses in middle school and high school. We had similar senses of humor, finding the ridiculousness in so much of life, particularly the life of a teenager, and we held onto each other in the kinship of misfit outsiders. Life wreaked its ruthless havoc on us, and as the world pummeled us for not seeming to belong, we found safety and security in one another. Our friendship was a life-sustaining force for me during my late teenage years, and she would be there when no one else could. That laid the history and groundwork for a lifelong friendship, and though it’s been about a decade since we’ve seen each other in person, through letters and texts and correspondence, we’ve kept in touch, and that friendship has never wavered. 

“The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool.”

The last few times we’ve seen each other have been for funerals, and that’s no way to see a dear friend. This reunion was a very long time coming, and as Ann would later point out, it was precisely what we needed without realizing how badly we needed it. 

Honey I know, I know, I know times are changing
It’s time we all reach out for something new
That means you too
You say you want a leader
But you can’t seem to make up your mind
I think you better close it
And let me guide you to the purple rain

We spent the day catching up and talking, shifting our little groups as Andy joined in after a Lowe’s grill mix-up (still awaiting a call back from that manager, days later) and soon – too soon – it was time for bed. There’s no way I can properly convey how lovely this weekend was for us – as our world grows ever dimmer, simply being with good friends is good for the soul. Both Ann and Josie have been two of those ‘safe’ friends whom I consider family – the very few people I trust implicitly and around whom I can completely let down my guard and entirely be myself. Those friends are few and far between, but whenever we get to share time and space, it reaffirms my hope and faith in the world. 

“It’s all happening!”

Having reconnected, and introduced Ann and Josie officially to each other, we are looking ahead to doing this again sooner rather than later. We’ve all lost people near and dear to us, and I think we feel the precious passing of hours, aware that time together is more important now than ever. 

Dearly beloved
We are gathered here today
To get through this thing called life

Electric word life
It means forever and that’s a mighty long time
But I’m here to tell you
There’s something else: the afterworld

A world of never-ending happiness
You can always see the sun, day or night…

So when you call up that shrink in Beverly Hills
You know the one Dr. Everything’ll Be Alright
Instead of asking him how much of your time is left
Ask him how much of your mind, baby

‘Cause in this life
Things are much harder than in the afterworld
In this life
You’re on your own

And if the elevator tries to bring you down
Go crazy!!!

Setting up our Purple Reign weekend was a labor of love, designed to be the first meeting of two of my besties who had become friends in their own right, and the first time I’d seen Ann in what may well be over a decade. It all felt too good to be true, and so we charged ahead, hyping it with purple boxes announcing the Purple Reign theme, with loads of lavender, lots of purple love, and a soundtrack largely by Prince (with some healthy doses of Madonna and Bon Jovi thrown in for 80’s pleasure). 

We would spend the weekend defying the notion of the opening intro that ‘in this life, you’re on your own’ – because on this weekend, we were in it together. More to come… 

Dr. Everything’ll-Be-All-Right
Will make everything go wrong
Pills and thrills and daffodils will kill
Hang tough, children
He’s coming
He’s coming
Coming…

It is a moment where tears fill the eyes but never drop.

It is sad in its way, but the overriding feeling is one of happiness, and a joy in that it all happened. 

A happy almost-cry, if you will. 

It’s the quiet and stillness when dear friends who have been visiting for a weekend depart – usually in the morning – and it always strikes me with its return to silence. The beauty and contentment of a newly-made memory…

It’s a time when remnants of dear friends still linger – the faded scent of their perfume, the last glass of water they used, the silly trio of heart-shaped sunglasses that sits on a spent table scattered with birthday cake crumbs. 

At such a moment, when Ann and Josie had just left after a ‘Purple Reign’ Birthday weekend that was ideal in just about every way, I stand in the living room, watch the sunlight of a brilliant spring day, and this song comes over the radio – a piano arrangement of Debussy’s ‘Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun’ – fittingly capturing the very start of something, even as it’s the very ending. 

As I watch JoAnn pull out of the driveway and give a little beep, I wave, holding my hand up even after she is gone, and I remember that last episode of the ‘The Golden Girls‘ when Sophia is looking at photo of Blanche and Rose and quietly says, ‘Goodbye my girls‘ after they have decided to stay together. (And you didn’t think this blog could get any gayer.)

This music feels right, because while the beginning of the piece perfectly captures that quiet and stillness, the rest is all about setting the scene for an entire new story to come, and a tale to be told that brings back decades of friendship and history. For now, I take in the beauty of the moment, the promise of a spring day, and the memory of some very dear friends.