PureSchmaltz

Rendered Fat Content

Lost Then Found

02 10, 15 22:40 Filed under: MorningMissive
Jiminy
A very few excruciatingly long weeks ago, my friend Jamie changed his address. I’m uncertain about this part, but I suspect he changed it permanently. Some insisted that we’d thereby lost him, but I question that assertion. If he is, indeed, now lost to us, we might also now be lost to him, but I contend that Jamie is right this moment no more lost than we are. Of course, this statement doesn’t really say all that much, for I have been feeling quite exceptionally lost these last weeks. Maybe you have been feeling lost, too. This morning, I intend to get to the bottom of just where Jamie is now so I can ditch this disconcerting lost feeling I’ve been dragging around like outsized carry-on luggage.

When Jamie was still “with us,” he was perhaps most noticeable to me by his absence. We didn’t find or create many opportunities to meet face-to-face, yet we managed to feel as though we were in decent touch anyway. We Skyped sometimes, phoned others, exchanged emails, sometimes directly, perhaps more often as CC:s, as part of some shared group business. The last few months, I maintained a stream of correspondence I did not intend him to respond to, but even that seemed to sustain the clear felt sense of intimate proximity between us—none of that reinforced with actual proximity, mind you.

Then, when he “left,” I felt a sense of loss every bit as real as that former sense of intimacy had been. Where had Jamie gone? I began to wonder where he’d always been, for I suspected then that my lurid imagination had somehow long before built him a residence he’d never physically inhabited, one I imagined him in and one that for most intents and purposes had fairly contained him and helped sustain our relationship, such as it ever was. I caught myself repossessing that place, casting Jamie out into ether, all because he’d died. This would not have qualified as a decent response even for an imaginary friend, and Jamie was in no way imaginary, though he certainly was my dear friend.

I suppose I imagined him entering that long cavern where all my forebears now reside, a place I’d thought already filled to overflowing with memorable presences. I wondered how he’d fare in there, perhaps struggling to even find a place to sit, though I suspected he’d find some pretense to initiate an innocent chat which would shortly turn into another Authentic Conversation. I figured he’d charm my great great grandmother, the one who crossed the Oregon Trail three times, or that many-times great grandfather who’d minted counterfeit British coins in the Blue Ridge and served as a Quaker officer over a company of misfits during the Revolutionary War, and then I felt jealousy rising in my craw.

Late one night, I finally figured out where Jamie had gone to. He’d gone to where I’d relegated him and I concluded that I’d consigned him to the old reliable default address where all my best-loved people have gone, but he didn’t go there by choice, neither his nor mine. He’d stumbled in there, shoved by a temporarily grief-mindless me. I decided that I wanted to choose where Jamie moved to, if, indeed, he really needed to move at all. (I insist that I am not dabbling in delusion here, or denial, but choice.)

I always thought of Jamie as a wise counsellor. He was skilled at finding that one thread that could unravel whatever cloak I wore. He was a gentle unraveler, and I appreciated his care. I often though of him as sitting on my shoulder, Jiminy Cricket-like, whispering in my ear. A conscience. A subtle influencer, reminding me of my intentions, of who I aspired to be. He wouldn’t let me get away with much.

After I’d so thoughtlessly banished him from his usual digs, I went without his navigating for a spell and, no real headline here, I felt quite lost as a result. After a while, I felt even more lost. And to think I heard myself explaining that I’d lost Jamie, my friend, but it was really me who was lost as a result.

I believe now that I committed a fundamentally human error when I evicted Jamie from his familiar place in my life just because he died. I have invited him back in and, apparently being in no particular spirit to deny me, he’s generously agreed to accept my invitation. Now, I don’t anymore say that I’ve lost my friend Jamie, for I imagine him sitting on my shoulder whispering in my ear. This last week, I felt the urge to write him a letter, so I did, CCing the traditional co-correspondent Maren. She graciously accepted the note in his apparent absence, even thanking me for it, and so my urge to correspond was satisfied. Further, I believe that Jamie received that note, too. I have no credible witness to deny this claim and my explanation works just fine for me.

Jamie always was more spirit than presence to me, which might make me more fortunate than those who knew him as more presence than spirit. Even those folks recognize that he had been blessed with one huge spirit, but no less than any of us were blessed with his spirit’s presence in our lives. I have committed now to the terms of a new long term lease with Jamie. He’s moved back into the place where I know him so well. The universe seems to have regained her balance again.

©2015 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved










Tags: ,

blog comments powered by Disqus

Good For A Goose





PureSchmaltz Archive Search


December 2024
November 2024
October 2024
September 2024
August 2024
July 2024
June 2024
May 2024
April 2024
March 2024
February 2024
January 2024
December 2023
November 2023
October 2023
September 2023
August 2023
July 2023
June 2023
May 2023
April 2023
March 2023
February 2023
January 2023
December 2022
November 2022
October 2022
September 2022
August 2022
July 2022
June 2022
May 2022
April 2022
March 2022
February 2022
January 2022
December 2021
November 2021
October 2021
September 2021
August 2021
July 2021
June 2021
May 2021
April 2021
March 2021
February 2021
January 2021
December 2020
November 2020
October 2020
September 2020
August 2020
July 2020
June 2020
May 2020
April 2020
March 2020
February 2020
January 2020
December 2019
November 2019
October 2019
September 2019
August 2019
July 2019
June 2019
May 2019
April 2019
March 2019
February 2019
January 2019
December 2018
November 2018
October 2018
September 2018
August 2018
July 2018
June 2018
May 2018
April 2018
March 2018
February 2018
January 2018
December 2017
November 2017
October 2017
September 2017
August 2017
July 2017
June 2017
May 2017
April 2017
March 2017
February 2017
January 2017
December 2016
November 2016
October 2016
September 2016
August 2016
July 2016
June 2016
May 2016
April 2016
March 2016
February 2016
January 2016
December 2015
November 2015
October 2015
September 2015
August 2015
July 2015
June 2015
May 2015
April 2015
March 2015
February 2015
January 2015
December 2014
November 2014
October 2014
September 2014
August 2014
July 2014
June 2014
May 2014
April 2014
March 2014
February 2014
January 2014
December 2013
November 2013
October 2013
September 2013
August 2013
July 2013
June 2013
May 2013
April 2013
March 2013
February 2013
January 2013
December 2012
November 2012
October 2012
September 2012
August 2012
July 2012
June 2012
May 2012
April 2012
March 2012
February 2012
January 2012
December 2011
November 2011
October 2011
September 2011
August 2011
July 2011
June 2011
May 2011
April 2011
March 2011
February 2011
January 2011
December 2010
November 2010
October 2010
September 2010
August 2010
July 2010
June 2010
May 2010
April 2010
March 2010
February 2010
January 2010
December 2009
November 2009
October 2009
September 2009
August 2009
July 2009
June 2009
May 2009
April 2009
March 2009
February 2009
January 2009
December 2008
November 2008
October 2008
September 2008
August 2008
July 2008
June 2008
May 2008
April 2008
March 2008
February 2008
January 2008
December 2007
November 2007
October 2007
September 2007
August 2007
July 2007
June 2007
May 2007
April 2007
March 2007
February 2007
January 2007
December 2006
November 2006
October 2006
September 2006
August 2006
July 2006
June 2006
May 2006
April 2006
March 2006
February 2006
January 2006
© 2006-2024 by David A. Schmaltz all rights reserved

Made in RapidWeaver