I was fine back in the day...

"It was long ago, and it was far away and it was so much better than it is today."


Several times in conversation recently questions about those who are no longer in my life have come up. You know: "Hey, have you heard from...", "What ever happened to...", "I thought you were dating...", and the like.

I'm a reasonably tactful person – at least I hope I am – so I tried to formulate an answer that didn't sound spiteful, hurt or whatever emotion applied to the person in question at the time of their departure. In each case, what came out was more or less "haven't seen them in some time." A nice sterile, blanket statement that encompasses the simple fact that they are no longer in contact regardless of why.

I have misplaced many people in my lifetime. So have you, I'm sure. Many have just drifted away with passing time, changes in location or occupation. Some have wandered away slowly, some have run screaming, some still stand where they were and I don't remember precisely where that "here" is.

All are missed: friends, lovers, family, enemies, coworkers, casual acquaintances. They were parts of me left behind like shed skin. Images of me, but not the full me. Each leaving a mark upon me, some fading like old pen marks and others indelible as tattoos, leaving me with something to take with me on my journey.

Some I miss greatly. Those that more than likely drifted away with passing time and distance and just went about their lives in whatever way they wished. Changed telephone numbers that never caught up with me, email addresses that reflect back, marriages, divorces and other incidents of life without my knowledge. A very few have crossed over to the clearing at the end of the Red Road, gone to meet with their ancestors, never to be heard from here, again. All of those are with me, but no longer where I can find them.

Others I miss less, if not for the person but for the circumstances in which the separation was instigated. Those whose departure was met with slamming doors, shouts or anger and pain, long and short telephone calls, squealing tires and the echos of emotions left like open wounds.

No matter how they left and where they have all gone, they are no longer anything but memories; echos of my past left to haunt me on lonely nights when sleep escapes me. Recent departures echo more loudly, pains more fresh and familiar to the mind and body but ghost pains occasionally move the amputated relationships and bring fresh pain and remembered joy to the surface.

Absence does make the heart grow fonder, softening the edges and blunting the cuts and stabs of memory. Some that once would have brought waves of emotion crashing down only ripple the surface and make the reflections difficult to grasp as they ring out in all directions. The harsh light of day is far away, the shadows of twilight fall long upon the scene and make the colors mute and blend with the darkness.

In the darkness, our imagination paints the scene with an incomplete pallet, hues not truly matching, but close enough in the shade to pass for what might have been. Our vision dimmed, we see our perceptions of the scenes, not with truly photographic clarity, but with the brush strokes of the impressionist. All of it reduced to the simplest of images.

Hindsight is not truly 20/20. It is seen, not through rose colored glasses, but through well polarized lenses that allow only one angle of reflection. The one way mirror of the soul keeping it's true nature hidden behind reflections of other distractions.

Someday, maybe I will look back and regret some of the misaligned memories, but not today. Today they are the comfort food of the soul. They keep me in peace and sanity.

So, no, I haven't seen her, but if you do... tell her I miss her, anyway, in spite of it all.