This is not just another day...

I experienced a very odd event on a recent afternoon -- mostly, I think, because it surprised me...

I now work in a building that is within a mile of my first professional employment that I accepted in August of '85. I pass by that old office building on my drive in to the "new" one (which is actually older than I am). Mega Corp, Inc. likes to train us thoroughly and schedules plenty of meetings, so another was planned for a recent afternoon to learn more about how to avoid looking like we don't understand what we do (or something like that).

So, off across the parking lots and alleyways and crosswalks to another building and to the mini-auditorium (so called), when I realize (rather instantly) that I had been there just twenty-two years ago. The same coat racks, phones, carpet, (bright orange) chairs, walls, etc. A real time-warp hit me that I had gone back to a lost (and hidden) moment. Not just any moment though. In early February of 1987 (perhaps on that same day? Could it have been?), I was in that same auditorium in the same third row when my pager buzzed me. No cell phones for me then. So, my one-way device alerted me with a simple phone number to ring back. This is a strong memory because that pager was for one purpose - to alert me to my wife's hospital room, where she was on bed rest from nausea and complications while expecting baby K...

Perhaps unnecessarily, but youthfully, I jumped and ran to reach a phone. But none worked in the auditorium lobby (they still don't I expect) and thus began the sprint across parking lots, alleyways, and walkways back to my (old) office to call and discover the cause of the page. Details vanish, but I drove like an idiot back home (yup, through several red-lights). To this day, I generally forgive other idiots who rush by me (and keep going) since I assume they are headed off to deal with something gone terribly awry).

I am close, you see, to a birthday that only two people recognize. Other folk will acknowledge the upcoming date by taunting the Triscadecaphobes among us with stories of "Friday the Thirteenth". But I have only one story this day to ponder of a Friday long since past on which a Full Moon shone brightly, the TV show Dallas was still new (and on the air that night), a candy bar needed to be purchased from a vending machine (to sate a pregnant craving), flights of stairs were climbed while in labor (the hospital elevator was sooo slow) and a (very) little girl was born on that early morning to touch our lives briefly yet evermore...

Perhaps each day our paths meet along side of another soul experiencing a similar reminder on their calendar? We each have a tragedy (or more) in our private Soap Opera episodes and must recognize these recurring anniversaries, recollections, déjà vu sensations of colors or scents, and, yes, for secret birth dates, too. Is it sad for me to have only one person with whom to share these times? Not at all, for I have such great blessings to enjoy as it would be sadder still to have no-one at all by my side!

I am thankful now for a time of reflection on my life and the challenges that face every one of us. May such tribulations enhance the days ahead with gratitude and lift our spirits to rise from grief to fully embrace eternal love. Little K was in our lives for just 35 days, but she remains in two hearts forever more. And if I should reach out in her spirit to share a comfort with a friend, a smile with a passer-by, or a prayer with God, then her short moment in time shall be well celebrated indeed...