Sunday, January 28, 2018

1/29/18—Reconnecting With The Past

This is NOT me and my friend. I found it on google.
Today is a rainy day and I'm not feeling my best. So, aside from writing this blog and throwing out some trash for the morning pickup, I've decided to spend most of the day sleeping and/or snuggling with my babies. 

I find it interesting that a few old friends have reconnected with me recently. Some before I landed in the hospital, some after reading my blog about that adventure, and one old work colleague who connected completely out of the blue in the past week or so. Whether aware of it or not, there's a mysterious connection that prompts people to reach out at just the right time. 

One of these people is a woman I knew for five months when I was 10. The military is such a transient life that the people that make marks on your memories are often people you didn't know for very long.  

As I consider our friendship, it strikes me that we had an unusually memorable friendship. My perception—and overwhelming reality—is that it took me a long time to make friends. But this girl lived next door to me, and we were clearly fast friends. I remember spending a lot of time at her house rehearsing a truly horrific dance we performed for our classmates. (Thank god video cameras weren't a thing then!) She remembers raiding my brother's bedroom to borrow his albums. He would be flattered to know he had "the good music."

Anyway, we spoke last night for quite some time, reminiscing over those five months, the people we knew and both our lives since. I don't have a very good memory of childhood things, but I do remember that period in particular. It felt like longer than it was, too. I remember that it snowed on my birthday, which was quite exciting for me. I remember learning how to play tetherball at that school. And I remember something I didn't mention in our call, but if memory serves, this friend broke my finger while she was performing a handstand and she subsequently helped me write out my homework a few times because I couldn't do it myself. My guess is that I probably milked that for all it was worth. :D 

Coincidentally, (if coincidence exists) she and I are on similar trajectories right now, with bodies that refuse to cooperate with our desire to do the things we most enjoy. We're also both due for surgery to correct those this issues within the next month or so. 45 years have passed since the last time we spoke, but we find ourselves living next door to each other once again, figuratively speaking (and literally, kinda, as she's local.) Let's hope we don't decide to make up a "really cool" dance to celebrate.

She did say something to me, though, that I found interesting. She said she remembered telling her mom that I was soulful. I'm not sure how a 10-year-old is soulful or how another 10-year-old knows to identify someone as such, but I found it interesting because I never would have thought of myself that way at that age. It struck me the same way it did when a high school friend recounted a story about me saying something spiritually wise and comforting that stuck with her all her life. My perception of myself was that I had none of that in me at all until my 20s. I considered myself an atheist for the first couple decades of my life and had no concept of spirituality. So maybe I was wrong about that. Maybe I've been walking this path far longer than I ever knew.   

I'm really struck by the number of people who have reached out to me out of the blue since, say, November...probably around 10 people. Compare that to maybe zero in the rest of rest of 2017, and it's pretty remarkable. Add to that a couple of clients who are going out of their way to keep me working and earning money before I might need time off, and I feel blessed. Anytime you're facing surgery, you're also facing your mortality. I don't know anyone who goes under anesthesia or the knife lightly. The universe seems to be letting me know that I've mattered and I do matter. I don't feel that way—or perhaps LET myself feel that way—very often. But it's nice. And I'll take it.