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2 August 2000


pleasantries and fidgeting

I must admit it. In general, I don't particularly enjoy going to weddings. More to the point, I don't particularly enjoy the hanging about after weddings, that special time when you get to talk to people you haven't seen for years, who once you were reasonably close to, and now you wouldn't know where they work, what they do, or what they've become. Ultimately, though you are polite and smile, lauding any accomplishments they share and mourning any trials, you don't really care. I don't. And I think nobody else does either. This person is a ghost, admittedly more substantial than any ethereal spirit, but just as much of an echo, a representation, of the person you once knew, but know no longer. And the echo is accusatory. It is all of the uncomfortable ways they once made you feel, or it is all of the shared jokes and comfortable ways they made you feel, but that time is gone. Some weddings serve for me as the place where the old, bad times resurface in the ache of a hollow memory, and the old, good times resurface in the ache of a hollow memory.

I suppose that this is how I'll feel when I'm old and gray, seeing people who I know now at someone's funeral and aching at a past both painful and lost.

musings of a prod.

Media Revolution: A place to think new, safe thoughts, and build the occasional cardboard cabana.

 

©2001 Timothy A. Clark -|-