Autumn Memories

This time of year I think I should be feeling a little nostalgia about school days with our kids: about carpools, homework, permission slips, and school supplies. But the truth is that I miss it all…like a toothache! When the pain is over you realize just how much it hurt. I realize, though, that what I miss is watching the kids grow up. I loved watching our kids friends go from gap-toothed little boys to men who shave. It was fun to watch the little girls go from tomboys to beauties, each one learning to possess grace within. At first I wondered if one of those young ones would grow up to marry one of my boys, or if one might be a best friend or best man. I saw some of those kids every single day for years, but soon they were scattered like seeds from a dandelion. Once in a while, my son John says, "You'll never guess who I ran into yesterday." And I guess, but to no avail. Then he brings up the name of an old classmate, and we both are conscious for that moment how life has changed.

I also wonder about people whom we get to know through the news or through extraordinary circumstances in our lives. Where-are-they-now pieces let us know the whereabouts of people like Jessica McClure or Patty Hearst. Earlier this week, I was lulled back to sleep by the droning of morning news on the radio. I had gone to bed late, so was glad to be able to catch a few extra winks. When the traffic reporter on the news said, "we're over a bad accident at the corner of 141^st and Juanita Drive" my eyes popped open. I could hear helicopters hovering above our house, and the sounds of sirens, near and far. I tried to remember how long it had been since Lenny left, but decided I'd better go see for myself. I ran a comb through my hair and threw on some clothes.

It was a bad accident. People I recognized from all over the neighborhood stood by helplessly watching the firefighters and police perform their grim service. Someone was airlifted to Harborview, a child I heard. It was all very sad.

A lady was standing near me. I recognized her as a fellow "valued customer" at QFC. We spoke, and she told me she had come to the corner to catch a bus to take her to her cardiologist by Evergreen Hospital. It was obvious that she wasn't going to catch any bus from there, as traffic was snarled all along this busy road. I told her I would give her a ride. She was grateful.

I thought she looked familiar, but I thought it was just from seeing her at the store. We talked for a while, and discovered that her youngest child and my oldest are the same age. She told me that her daughter was a journalist. Obviously proud, she gave me her daughter's card. I immediately recognized the name: she had been a classmate of John's in first and second grade at a private school in Bothell. We had fun reminiscing and talking about our kids.

In this big world sometimes we walk on the same path with people for a while and then we never see them again. But sometimes our paths cross again, and it's nice to remove them from the suspended animation of our minds, and update the memories. Now I just wonder about those folks who were in the accident. If you know who they are, tell them that I won't forget them.