Slice Of Life: A Daily Story

Day Two

Saturday, June 23, 2012

based on two moments of the day - a chance encounter with Nancy Geeting, wife of Reverend Doug Geeting, and a second chance encounter with Reverend Jeff Cannon and his wife Karen Cannon.

Bumping Into

It’s very difficult to bump into old “friends”. I’m not even sure if I can call them “friends” – at least not any longer. At one time in my life, they were very close “friends”; and what I mean by that is that I confided many personal things to one or more of these bumped into “friends”. My life was impacted by them in various ways, good and bad. And as I said, it is very difficult to bump into old “friends”.

But here I am, standing awkwardly with many thoughts running through my head. Things like, ‘gosh, what am I supposed to say to her?’ or ‘do I give them a hug?’ and even ‘I wish they were still a part of my life.’ Time and distance does that, builds awkwardness into a once casual closeness that was not lost on either me or them. But now? Now I stand here uncomfortable and longing to get away.

There are things left unsaid. Does she know how healed I have become? Does he know how much he rooted me and gave me security? Can he ever understand how his being fallibly human enabled me to approach authority figures? Probably not; nor is this the time or place to discuss such things. And so I look away and watch my feet and smile and make small talk and recognize the longing within myself that sought more. More from each of them. I was needy then, maybe I still yet am. Maybe that contributes to the awkwardness, this recognition that I’ve not changed as much as I believed. The story moves forward.

She did look good, not seeing us as she scanned the crowd far above our heads. If it hadn’t of been for my companion she would have disappeared altogether without ever noticing me. But her attention was drawn to us by the shout of my companion. And she looked at her. And then she saw me. And I stood. I had to; she was after all coming towards me. And so I stood. I hugged her lightly – at least I believe I hugged her lightly. It’s hard to know if I did or didn’t for you see right at that moment I was lost in the longing of myself and the past and who we were together in friendship. We chatted idly, about the wedding, about her daughter’s wedding album(s), a mention of her son and then she was off. I fumbled with items in my bag, drawing a deep breath; my companion nudged me and mentioned that he was waving at us. I looked down upon the floor and yes, there he was, standing where he sits every year that we are here, smile as big as his face and arm waving wildly. I smile back and wave slightly and then the moment was past. They looked toward the stage and I resumed fumbling through my bag. I don’t feel regret and yet there was something. Maybe it is the realization of the loss of the friendship, the recognition of that which was and can never be again. The story moves forward.

And then we are off to lunch, my companion and me. I sat in the seat of the bus, staring out the window, stopped at a traffic signal near the place that we were to be let off. They came into my vision, I focused and I saw them. I said nothing. At least I believe I said nothing. Once again I was lost in my own thoughts, the past met the present in the longing of myself. However this relationship was never as close or as strong as the relationship between me and the two sitting on the floor of the center. Ever. In fact the relationship between me and the he of these was much more volatile than any relationship I had ever experienced with and by a person of authority. I learned a lot from this relationship, from this friendship, from him; I learned that it is alright to argue with authority, it is ok to question authority, I can raise my voice to authority, and that those in position of authority are not above me and not better than me. And so I exited the bus and as I did we paused; all four of us saw each other at the same time and we hugged lightly and smiled gently. I tried to keep the pity deep behind my eyes so he could not see that that was the feeling I now held for him. We chatted briefly about lunch, where to eat, what was good, did he treat us to the Mexican restaurant just last year or was it two years ago. And then we parted, they boarding the bus and we off to lunch. The feelings were far more muted than I thought they would have been, should they have been? The friendship, if truly there was “friendship”, seemed entirely past. And I suppose that is as it should be. After all, they are not in my daily life any longer.

I have moved on…that much was made plain today as I bumped into old “friends”. I am no longer the person I was seven years ago or eleven years ago, or even fifteen years ago when I first moved to Virginia. I am more confident of who I am in my own skin, of my own opinions and of my own feelings. While I am ever grateful to them, they are not integral to the development of me any longer. Bumping into them made that blatantly obvious. I am, apart from all of them, more complete.