History Lessons

I realise that the current fashion is to be bagging Facebook, or lamenting the blocking of Facebook by employers, or the brandishing of fists in response to be thrashed at scrabble on Facebook, but I'm going to be different.

I heart Facebook!

And there's a very particular reason why:

I came home from footy on Saturday morning, consoling a very bedraggled Tiger who was covered head-to-toe in mud having played (and lost) an hour-long rain-soaked Grand Final, to discover a message sitting in my Facebook inbox.

It went along the lines of

"Hi! You wouldn't happen to be the Actonb who lived in Warrington UK before moving to Australia would you? Because I've been trying to find you for ages!"

And this simple email caused much squealing and shrieking and carrying on as it was from my bestest and oldest friend in the whole wide world - Sara. She was my best friend from 1978 to 1982 when we moved a universe away from Warrington - 25 years ago this month. We kept in touch for quite a while, as only 8 year olds can, writing every six months or so, until everything faded to black. I think it was when we were in high school that we finally lost touch.

She still lives there, in that little Northern town with it's incomprehensible accent, and she's been google-stalking me for a couple of months before trying Facebook. So damn lucky I kept my quite distinctive maiden name - there is but one Actonb in the world! And in a lovely coincidence I had tried to find her on Facebook a couple of weeks ago, but got cold feet at the thought of 'poking' the 10-or-so Sara X's...

So we've been exchanging emails, trying to fill in the gaps of 2 decades of silence. It's daunting but fun y'know... What is it about the false security of nostalgia? Why is it so attractive? I am a lifetime away from that little girl Sara knew, and yet maybe not... I think it's worth it, to catch a glimpse through the Sliding Door at the life I left behind...

Plus, also, she has cool photos of us dressing up which she's going to send me!