Searching and Found

There seems to come a time in your life, when you least suspect it, don’t plan on it, can’t even figure out what series of events triggers it, that a face from the past pops into your head and you start obsessing over finding this person, for no apparent reason other than to satisfy a large dose of curiosity.  It could be five years or twenty-five years since you last spoke to this someone who is taking over your brain waves, but the powerful draw from the past makes it seem like yesterday.  The overwhelming desire to find out if this individual remembers the (now, historical) events you shared moves you to action.

I always relied on my mom to fill me in on the events and happenings of my school friends, as she stayed in the same neighborhood and kibbitzed with many of the other moms who needed information for their far-flung children also inquiring.  Events of our lives were (mostly) accurately relayed to eager ears and translated across the phone wires to equally willing accomplices wanting to know the whereabouts and activities of long lost friends.  It brought joy as you found out when old friends married, had babies, found success in their early careers and sorrow and empathy if their parents had passed away or divorce, illness or devastation succumbed them.  Word of mouth is the best mode of communication because there is a give and take dialogue that if the appropriate probing questions were asked, result in much more data.

I am sorry to say that my “mom-network” pretty much went away when my mom passed away.  About the same time though, an ambitious high school friend got together an e-mail server for our graduating class.  It is nice to have a link, first hand, to the people who helped formulate part of who you are and got you to where you are…yes; we all have a “past”.  Another special part of old friends is that they know where you came from and accept you for who you are – not always the case with new acquaintances.

Of course, the brain popper person intruding on your thoughts is not part of the usual e-mail group…that would be way too easy.  You have to dig a little deeper (how fortunate we live in the age of search engines on computers) and pray and hope when you send off the inquiring e-mail (that you have found by typing in your “longed-fors” name and cross referenced with a lucky find of a photo), cryptic in its message (as to not divulge too much, or too little), that it finds the genuine recipient.  Only time will tell…you wait, you ponder the “what-ifs” if they do reply, you wonder what drove you to do this in the first place, you wait, you check your “in-box” every half an hour to see if “you’ve got mail”, you have senders remorse and you wait.

My heart skipped a beat.  There it was! A reply from my sent message…my meddlesome mind intruder had become electronically accessible.  I was giddy with delight; I called a select friend (who wouldn’t think I was crazy and supported this whim) to confess what I had done.  Three more e-mails flashed back and forth.  We picked up right where we had left it so many years ago.  It felt like we had never missed a day of talking, laughing, sharing.

I am going to be extra diligent in keeping in touch with this newfound old friend.  You don’t always get a second chance at such things and this is something to be cherished and celebrated.  And, I want to thank them for stopping by in my thoughts unexpectedly and let them know they are welcome there anytime.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life.  Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.     

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-