undisturbed memories

 There are people in our pasts that enter our thoughts every now and again. These folks have faded away in our lives to become memories. We moved on or they moved on living our lives. Those we went to school with, co-workers, and neighbors. Having spent twenty years in the Navy it has happened often enough to me. Every once in a while, I am reminded of them. It may be a song on the radio, or a particular place but something jars that memory. That happened this morning. My wife is going to a luncheon/bridal shower in St. Michaels, Maryland. The guys aren't attending this event and I'm just as glad for that. I'm still old school when it comes to that stuff. So as a result, I will have a few hours to kill while I wait for the party to end. I was thinking of what to do. St. Michaels is a bit of a tourist town, well more than a bit but the season hasn't begun yet. I'm not much for shopping and no longer does sitting in a bar hold any interest for me. But I thought just down the road from St. Michaels is the town of Claiborne. An old friend and co-worker lives in Claiborne. Big John Riley is his name, and he was a good friend. A man that stood over six foot four inches and weighed in excess of three hundred pounds, an ex-marine born on the fourth of July. All of those things are true. I worked with him some years back and thought I could go visit him. Then I realized I worked with him over twenty years ago. Funny how the time has slipped by. Big John is older than myself, although I'm not certain by how much but I think at least ten. That means he would be eighty today! And then the thought, is he still alive? I don't know the answer to that, but it is unsettling to realize it is far more likely that he isn't, than that he is. 

 Claiborne is about forty miles from Greensboro where I live. I don't drive forty miles to go anywhere very often and so lost touch with John. I wasn't driving to his house, and he wasn't coming to mine. For a short time after leaving the place where we worked together, I would pay him an occasional visit. That stopped at some point for no particular reason. John was divorced living as a bachelor and doing his own thing. Other than enjoying a few beers together, talking shop and talking about shared interests, we didn't do much. I mean we didn't go hunting, fishing or golfing anything like that. I have thought about him over the years and wondered. This has happened quite a few times on Facebook. I see the names of those that have passed, and it comes as a shock. It is a reminder of my own mortality. That is to say when I realize that I shouldn't be that surprised, those people are older. The surprise is, I'm older and I could be next! No one told me getting older would be like that.

 I am left thinking about things. I feel bad for the thought that John may no longer be with us. I feel bad because that thought came as I thought about his possible age. I guess that others are saying the same thing about me. Are those old friends, classmates and acquaintances reminded of me every now and again? Then do they wonder, is he still alive? It just seems like such a negative thought. But then I realize that is simple reality. My great Grandfather Floyd P Lester was born on this day in 1878, he's 145 years old. He passed away in 1968 but I don't think of him as dead. He never got left behind. And I guess that is the thing, those that get left behind die. What I mean is, we accept death in a different way with those that were left behind, as compared to those that weren't. Should Big John no longer be with is I will accept that without question. It's sad, but not the same loss as someone much closer. Those closest to us are when we question the inevitable. That's when we say, why. 

 I don't know it is just these little things that I think about. I wonder if Big John is still around, still living in that little house of his. It's been quite a while. Would he even remember who I am? I wonder if I could even find that house today, it was off the beaten trail a bit. I don't think I'll try. I think I'll just leave that memory where it is. It's a good memory, quite a few good memories in fact. I guess I just don't want to know. Sometimes it is just better that way. Allowing our memories to live is about the only thing we can do, if you really think about that. Never saying goodbye. Maybe that's eternity. I like, see ya later much better.