When the Smoke Clears

Last week work turned darker along with the skies through the week. By the weekend, the skies had cleared, a chill air sweeping up through the valley. Now, back to Monday and back to work and the skies look like they want to release snow, not just rain, and do so in a muddy fury.

Chatting with a friend tonight, he was noticing all the people he had put behind in his life, leaving his home and moving south to start anew with new friends, new jobs, new direction. He didn’t look back, but now is longing for his past.

I think I have hit the reset button like that several times. I know when I moved back from Colorado I left that entire life behind, the people I met, the friendships I made. Granted, 9 years later I contacted one of the great ladies with whom I used to work when I found myself back in Denver.. We talked about the changes since we sat next to each other, typing our stories for the paper, then drifted away again. We had lunch. I saw pictures of how much her kids had grown in 9 years, and again, on I moved

My friends from college, mostly gone from my life, though my fraternity brothers have been reactivated in an online group, and I look at the discussions with at least 40 to 50 posts a day on politics, sports, etc. The fact that these mid-30s men are STILL using our strange talk from those days makes me wonder and feel well-isolated. For example, we referred to desires, wishes, needs, etc. as actual people named Bob. Stay with me here: Hungry? You were Bob Feasters. Disagree with my statement? Bob Dissenters. Want to go smoke? Bob Tokers.

I feel sure I grew out of that… like 15 years ago while I was still in college.

I broke ties again when I left the rural ambulance service and moved to the city. Going back to that county where I was known, I can walk right up to people with whom I used to work, people with whom I spent days at a time and they don’t recognize me, the changes to both my physical and mental states are so drastic. Truth is, I’m proud of the changes, the reinvention, the renewal.

But there are threads of constants, a few chosen friends who stand fast with me through the years, even when a year passes between contacts. There are people I cannot leave behind, the impressions on my heart too deep to let those go, though many times it seems they are already distant memories fondly warming on cold, soulless nights.

The constants have usually been military or paramedic folks. Strange how I keep coming back to that. Talking with Butterbar over in Iraq over the weekend, I knew he was a point that I will hold on to. Same with the Good Major in Korea.

I know of people who spend most if not all their lives in an area and they seem so happy. They have figured out a secret I cannot grasp no matter how obvious.

Weeks ago I joked I go in 3 year cycles and was due for another shift, but I doubted it would happen this time. I think I spoke too soon.

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