Old Teen Essays
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| Article Specs|
Article ID: 4499
Age Group: Adult
Posted: January 29th. 2001
The Times of Our Lives
Sometimes things just pop into your head. There you'll be-just daydreaming along about nothing in particular- and suddenly some flash from the past takes over and you find yourself taking a trip down memory lane. In this case though, it was a trip down the moving van lane.
When Witchvox relocated to Florida three years ago, one box came up missing. Well, not missing exactly, but rather buried beneath several monstrous other boxes of Fritz's lifelong collection of rare rock video clips and music albums. Not being the she-woman that she once was, Wren fussed about it but never got around to the messy, sweaty and muscle aching task of moving the collections around enough to get at that box. For some reason, she decided to take on the task last Wednesday. Several hours of shuffling (Excuse me, Ruby, but pleez get your tail out of the way!), dust-raising and grunting later, the box emerged from the bottom (of course!) of the pile. Among the long-lost treasures was a photo album. Flipping through it, pictures of Gwendolyn, Thoth, Christina and Derrick, Peg, Lisa, Jim, Adam, Colin and Angie, Toby and Elf and so many other old friends smiled out at us. Friends, most of whom we had not seen for the three years since we had moved away from Boston, looking just as they had at the moments now immortalized by the miracles of film processing. Happy. Vibrant. Magickal. So very magickal. Wren caught her breath, smiled back at the faces which prompted so many wonderful memories and got back to work tidying up.
Looking back, Wren knows now that sometimes what seems to be spontaneous memories or random events might actually be links between the past and the present-and possibly, of the future as well. Perhaps the Universe (by whatever name you wish to call It, Him, Her, Them) is constantly speaking to us of these things. One of the voices by which it speaks may be that which Carl Jung called synchronicity.
For it was only a few dozen hours later that one of the photo-people called us. It was Gwendolyn.She was crying. Killed instantly in a multiple car accident somewhere in New York, Adam was gone (see Adam's Memorial). In this cycle of the events that we call our present lives, he would be forever smiling out of the book of photos, forever in our thoughts when we gathered together, forever twenty-eight years old.
What makes the story of the last few days even stranger is that when Wren called Christina to tell her the news, Chris exclaimed, "I was just talking about him the other day!" and later, Peg told of something similar. All of us had 'spontaneously' been thinking of Adam just hours before the accident. What could this mean? On first thought, believing as she does that the Universe is a compassionate place, Wren reflected that perhaps the Universe was somehow preparing us for this sad event. Upon further meditation though, it occurred to her that perhaps the Universe was rather doing something for Adam. Surrounded by the warm feelings of his friends-even without any conscious knowledge that we were indeed thinking of him-may have lifted him up during the time of his Journeying in ways that we left here may not discover until we meet with him again. It's a comforting thought.
And perhaps the next time some old friend seemingly pops into our minds for no apparent reason, we'll give him/her a call, write a note, send an email simply stating, "I was thinking of you today, my friend. I miss you. I love you. You will always be my friend." As many Pagans make ready to celebrate or acknowledge another seasonal marker at Imbolg/Lammas, why not celebrate some of the people that have made a 'mark' upon your life as well? A phone call, a note, an email..."You will always be my friend".
Photo credit: The beautiful Athame to your upper left is a waterhawk creation and is used with permission. (Web: waterhawkcreations.com)
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