Circling Back
Now Playing: Colinda by Zachary Richard on The Big Easy soundtrack
Topic: Daily Eruptions
This has been my year for reconnecting with people from my past. Actually, I'm in my second year of that. Marc kicked it off by taking me to lunch in the spring of 2004 after about five years of rebuilding our friendship via email. Then I was lucky enough to get back into more regular contact, after a ten year hiatus, with Scott and Rich after last summer's get together at Matt's. I've been back in contact with John recently, too. In part because of his surgery, in part because I've been in need of his perspective and advice.

And on Thursday night, completely out of the blue, I received an email from James who had found me on the Internet and had read this blog. We haven't spoken since the night we broke up once and for all, which was more than ten years ago. Luckily, he wasn't writing to say that he still hates me--although I wouldn't blame him if he did. Instead, he was very kind and worried about my response and said he hoped we could catch up and perhaps become friends again. Wow. Amazing!! I had closed that door pretty tightly and it's odd to have it reopened now. It's not that I never thought about him or about our time together, just that I've been careful about which things I've let myself remember. In truth, I feel pretty cut off from that time in life and from myself in that time--which is unfortunate because the two years we were together were some of the most defining in my life. We shared several firsts, and I can't really think about my time at PIRG or in Washington, D. C. without thinking about him. I wrote him back, but haven't heard from him again, so I can't say how smoothly this transition will go. I am hopeful, though, and grateful. I have never liked being cut off from people whom I have loved and shared significant experiences with. This is a gift.

That leaves just one person with whom I haven't reconnected on a personal level, but even that relationship has some form now. He has left a footprint on the Internet that I found just before I drove to Michigan for my grandmother's funeral in 2003, and when I was in Michigan in the summer of 2004, a little voice told me very clearly to pick up a newspaper at the gas station because he would be in it. The next morning, at my campsite in Mackinaw City, I paged through the paper until I found his picture. The smile and the eyes have not changed, which is comforting to know. This year on my birthday I received just the slightest indication that I am, or was, in his thoughts. Since then he has shown me his children in a dream, although he didn't speak to me. I have a feeling that's the extent of the contact I will be allowed to have with him, and given our last round of conversation and the chaos I'm sure it created in his life, I'm glad to have even that. At some point, I would like to have an opportunity to apologize for the extreme selfishness to which I subjected him and for my complete lack of understanding of the choices he had made and what they meant, but maybe I don't deserve that opportunity. And maybe an apology from me wouldn't mean anything to him at this point. In any event, I am glad to know, after many years of uncertainty, where he is and that he is well.

Each of these men have given me back a piece of my past, and therefore, of my self. They are helping me to move forward in my journey toward wholeness, and for that--and for their friendship--I will always be grateful.