Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Ghosts and Memories

About a month or so ago, I had a dream I was sitting at a table for two on the veranda of a cafe. The table next to me was empty, but two tables over sat a person from my past. Then, that person vanished and another person from my past sat in that same chair. This kept going on. More and more people from my past sat in that chair. I began to wonder, am I dying? Is this how my life is going to flash before me - in a coffee house?

The dream stuck with me and I began thinking about the mother of my first love. She was the last person to sit in that chair. In the dream, I walked up to her and hugged her. Then, she handed me her toddler boy, Steve, who grew up right in my arms. Well, dreams are that way . . . strange.

Within a few days, guess what? Steve had looked me up and sent me an e-mail. Now, I almost fell over when I saw the e-mail, for I had not seen nor heard from him in twenty-five years. Even with the world getting smaller and smaller as global networking grows bigger, I never once ran into him. But, I often thought of him throughout my life.

Steve and I have a lot of history between us. We were basically inseparable for over three years while in our late teens and early twenties. Really, inseparable. I don't remember doing anything unless it was with Steve. And our entire world revolved around dancing (and eating his mom's homemade Italian food). The Disco era was in full groove and we were the King and the Queen. From dance contests and exhibitions to fashion shows to television and newspaper interviews, to The Auto Show, to Hollywood and Dance Fever . . . we did it all. We had it all. Or so it seemed to a couple of twenty-year-olds at the time.

Since that time, Steve and I have been catching up through a series of phone calls. It was weird how, until I heard his voice a few times and it became familiar to me again, I could not find it in my memory. I was trying to remember certain things about him, like his voice, his touch, his smell. But, after all of those years and so much happening in between, I mostly remembered the sparkle in his eyes, his genuine smile and his contagious laughter. I remembered his quirky ways and silly sense of humor, and how we both liked to have the best of everything. I remembered the good times.

This got me thinking about memories in general. Do we, can we really remember the details? Was I going to forget all those little everyday things about my mother too. And, were they important anyway? Maybe it is the way one feels when in the company of another . . . those feelings are the only memories one really needs.

Talking to Steve has been good medicine for my soul. He knew me when . . . He knew the girl before she became a women . . . like a parent knows things about his or her child. Those little remember whens. He connected me to my past in a healthy way and I am so grateful. I look forward to more catching up with him.

One of my favorite quotes comes from the Beatles and it sings true to my heart:
And in the end, the love you make is equal to the love you take.

PS Hi Speavy.


Michelle's Spell said...

I loved this post -- lots to think about in regards to the nature of memory. I think about how much changes about the dead -- sometimes I remember the really good moments, sometimes the hard ones. I suspect that it's whatever we need to know at that moment. I do believe they are always around us.

Pythia3 said...

Yes, I agree Michelle: We do remember what it is we need to know / learn at that moment. Our memory is such an amazing thing. For me, once I have learned from an experience or from a person, I can then hold sacred the good times shared and the less than good memories (the yuck and muck) fall off into abyss. The beauty is that we never stop needing to know, we never stop wanting to learn . . . the pain of it is we never stop growing (sometimes uncomfortably so) and we can never stop working on it getting on with it.
And I know they are always around us . . . I have absolutely no doubt.
That's for another topic we need to explore - another discussion we need to have.

Anonymous said...

I had something really wel thought out to say in response to this post...but I forgot it...

Shitty memory. ;)


Anonymous said...

Oh, the ghosts and the have spurred something on here, Lindy. You and others.

I like the Einstein quote, "Reality is merely an allusion."

Of course, this leads to one of my favorite t-shirts. It is black with white writing and simply states, "I live in my own world but don't worry they know me there."

Thank you for the inspiration and good luck with the former lover. I'll most definitely be reading your posts.