Today I was driving and a thought of someone I used to work with when I cooked for a living came to mind. I couldn’t think of his name. I went over in my head, What is his name? The young kid? The bald kid with glasses? Dex? Was it Dax? That would be odd … Dave would know. Yes, Dave would know. We worked together with the kid and have so many shared memories and experiences. That’s what folks do when they fall in love and decide to spend their lives together … they share almost everything with each other. That’s what we did.
Fifteen years together, twelve or more living together … same friends, same shared favorite places, music, etc., etc., etc …
So, I drove, I thought, then I cried. I miss my person. I miss his goofy looks at me from across the room. I miss him laughing at my dumb jokes. I miss his smell. I miss his smile. I miss the me I saw through him. That’s one of the things that comes to me as I think about building experience, growing together and sharing lives … I miss my reflection in his eyes. I miss the Chris that he saw and loved.
In that reflection was a knowing. Knowing that he was there to store and keep those memories and experience with me … our own vault so to speak. Now, I alone am the vault keeper. I hold the memories of our life together. I share the stories with the kids. There is still something so essential that’s missing though … being able to reflect, remember, and share that with someone that was there … with him. Today, I not only grieve losing him, but I grieve losing a part of my life that I can never have back … someone who knew my story, someone who I could say just a part of something and he knew what I was talking about … someone who helped me build myself.
Really, we are all who we are because of what we’ve lived and who we loved … many time we learn and relearn from the things that have happened and sharing them or reminiscing about them again. There’s a big blank in my life … a big space that I can’t share with anyone because it was ours. That makes me sad, it makes me angry … and it makes me … well, it makes me, me.
So, I guess I won’t remember that kid’s name that we cooked with a long time ago. I will continue to remember that all those experiences with Dave led me to become the woman I am today. Maybe I won’t have someone to laugh with about it, but I will still remember when things were different … a time when the reflection I saw through another’s eyes and heart made me feel loved, wanted, and alive.