I traveled widely in the US and Canada when I was young. Courtesy of the Government, I hit a few spots in the Caribbean as well. I always gravitated away from the touristy and towards the wholly local. There was nothing quite as good as settling in and making friends. Likewise, you saw things that tourists never knew about and gained perspectives that were not on the spiels of tour guides. Some very mundane places were unexpectedly fascinating at the local level. Being that I was restless, I didn’t stay too long in one spot and missed the birthdays, anniversaries, and other celebrations of people who I cared for.
This peripatetic jumping around has consequences. No sooner had you launched a relationship than you were off to another place. Why? Well. a whim, a fancy, perhaps a minor disagreement. In truth, if you have no roots, you have no investment in a place. If you take no time to develop an attachment, it’s easy to leave. “Always in motion, never at rest” could be your motto.
Eventually, I learned the fruitlessness of endlessly wandering and established a firm tap root that kept me local to one area.
But you never entirely stop wondering about what happened back in Williston, Recerville, Port Agatha, or any of the many places you once hung a hat, dropped your pack at, or spent playing your guitar in. Thankfully, after sending in the DNA sample, there were no emails from prospective descendants looking for their father. But at midnight, your fingers start typing searches on Google: Chambers of Commerce, local papers, or community organizations. Blind curiosity. What’s up with Charlie, Betty, Joan, or Jack? Just once you pick up the phone and call, “Hi, It’s Wes!”, “Who?” and then a click as the phone hangs up. You make no more calls, and your Google searches go in other directions.
It’s tough coping with being less memorable than you hoped to be.
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I find it hard to believe you are ever unremarkable, Lou, but having moved around a lot, I know how it goes.
But it’s a true story VJ. Someone who I thought of as long lost good friend asked me who I was when we ran into each other. We’re not always as memorable as we hope.
I know. Sad truth.
This post got me thinking. I once looked up an old schoolmate and they claimed not to remember me, but maybe it is what they remember and choose not to admit it. Who knows, after so many years people may remember things differently than I do.
True but it’s also kind of a relief being less memorable than you thought you’d be 😀
There are true friends and there are situational friends. The former are always in your life, even after years of separation. See them again, and the conversation starts up where it left off. They name you as the godfather to their children.
Then there are the bigger group, the situational friends, people you meshed perfectly with, did fun things with, thought you’d be BFF with, but, after separation, you reconnect briefly with to discover they’ve moved on, had a fun time with you, but don’t really want to reconnect.
“Please don’t call again or I’ll have to block your number,” they think all the time you try to re-establish a connection, then, when you finally hang up, they quickly block your number!
A lot of “friendships” at workplaces are like that. Once you leave you never hear from them again.
Most of my decades long friendships where I worked pretty much ended when I retired. a couple survive, one death was a third one.
It’s funny how one month your buds, and the next your messages to get together are unanswered.