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The number of people I know compared to the number of people I knew makes quite the disproportionate ratio. I imagine it like an iceberg: 10% is visible and the other 90% submerged and not seen. There are hoards of people in my past whom I no longer know their whereabouts. The majority of them I can’t even remember. anymore I don’t regret these passing ships in the night. I truly miss the ones who were once upon a time important. Vows were made in long ago kitchens or over drinks pledging eternal friendship and now they are gone. One of my best friends from college (1980-84) is now just a brief once in a while pleasant hello via FB.  He’s married now, busy with his teenagers; we don’t have much in common anymore other than old jokes and memories. The more likely reason is probably prosaic: time and distance readily separate.  On Life’s Journey we look up and around and realize our fellow sojourners are no longer in eyesight.

I have to face the sorrowful fact a close friend doesn’t want to be in my life anymore. I sensed a separation forming in the past couple of years. Our correspondences became one-sided viz. I did all the calling. Then I sent emails; he never responds to them. I sense if I were to call him he would speak with me and give updates if I asked. My intuition tells me this is another case of time/distance causing a slow dissipation of a bond I thought indestructible.  I admit this one hurts and makes me very sad. I miss him – a lot. It makes me wonder what I did wrong. Did I offend? Did he call one day needing help and I wasn’t there? I have no feedback as to what happened. Like a friend on FB who “unfriends” me, there is no departure note of explanation. One day they are gone, creating a blank slate upon which to project one’s self doubts.

In more doleful moments I wonder if aging whittles down the address book to nobody.

I suspect I will continue sending the occasional email to the mentioned man, ending each with a ‘it would be nice to hear from you”. It is probably foolish. This gives me a bit of hope someday he may respond or call. Perhaps I am waiting for Godot, but like the two tramps they feel obliged to try.

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February 2015

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