In conversation today with a lovely new old friend, I learned the impact that my father's death had on a mutual friend, who lived up the street from me. In my own myopic view of the world I've never considered how other people were effected. It is after all, all about me.
If you asked me the date that my father died I would hesitate, struggling to do the math in my head before I came up with the right year and maybe month. The day... I could guess.
My friend up the street has the date down cold, it was his father's birthday, and in the storm that injured my parents, he watched giant trees topple like twigs as the roof was blown off of his home. Quite a memorable evening I imagine. The next morning he heard that my father had been killed.
He remembers my father taking him and me to a Fathers and Sons function at school the year before; when his father couldn't get off work. I don't remember this at all. He does. I envy him that memory, even if it isn't necessarily a happy one for him.
On the other hand, I now know I was with my dad and my friend when I learned about the birds and the bees. That makes me smile. Thank you for sharing your memory with me.
I wonder who else in my life has been profoundly impacted by a shared experience, that I've only considered from my point of view?
Light more light.
Namaste.
