Sharon and I were both born within a few days of each other.  I’m older by four days.

I lived on Park Avenue near the corner of Van Horne, Sharon lived on Davaar Avenue near the corner of Van Horne.  We were less than a mile apart.  We lived on the island of Montreal, Quebec, Canada.

I moved to Brighton Road (later renamed Ekers), and still within a mile of Sharon.  We both, at times, played at Pratt Park.

Sharon, it turns out, was in school with my

cousin Eleanor.  In their grade two class photograph they are sitting three apart.  (Eleanor on the far left, Sharon is on the far right.) 

I moved to Bedford Road, about 1.5 miles from Sharon.

Sharon and I moved from Montreal to Laval (Quebec) about the same time.  We lived, again, about a mile apart.  Actually, 1000 meters.

We ended up going to the same elementary schools.  We never met.  We went to the same high school.  Again, we never met.

Sharon’s best friend, Soteria, always tried - and sometimes succeeded - in getting me in trouble in class in high school; she liked passing notes.  Sharon knew Soteria since elementary school in Montreal.  It turned out that Soteria was also a childhood friend of my cousin Eleanor.  Soteria never mentioned Sharon to me; never introduced us.   It turned out that Sharon and I had a good many mutual friends, but still we never met.

Sharon and I attended Vanier College after graduating high school.  College classes began on a Tuesday.  I FINALLY saw Sharon that afternoon.  My first thought was, “Very pretty.”  I always kept my eye on her.  I just kept putting my foot in my mouth, as did she her’s.  We had a mutual friend, Susan, who always told me, “Go talk (or sit) with Sharon.”

We started hanging out together my first year at McGill University.  Then the stupidity of youth came into play and we stopped seeing each other.  I always regretted that.

We didn’t see each other for decades.  I would try to locate Sharon, all to no avail.  She vanished.  I figured she was married and had a new family name.  I always regretted never telling her how I really felt about her.  Actually, I had once, but we were both very inebriated and she didn’t remember anything I said.

April 2011: I was speaking with a friend whom I had known since high school.  She said she thought Sharon passed away.  I went crazy trying to find any record of Sharon.  After three days and nights with no luck, one last idea: change the “s” in Sharon’s family name to a “c”.  First hit, her grandfather’s family tree.  There she was.  All those years I had been misspelling her family name...  Next hit was a page about Sharon with her photo.  Still pretty.   I now knew where she lived and so found her phone number.  I called.

At first Sharon didn’t want me to come visit and didn’t much want to talk to me, but she said that I could call again in a few days.  I called.  It quickly became a nightly event.  Soon, if I didn’t call or if I was late to call, she would telephone me asking if I was all right. 

Sharon finally said I could visit her (a 620 Km drive each way).  I visited a second time a few weeks later.  She became my girlfriend again.  We went to my condo in North Miami Beach for the winter.  We came back engaged.