Sanctuary

A guy I knew from high school passed away a few days ago.  He was a friend to many. 

It is an exaggeration for me to say he was “my friend” because I never really hung out with him nor did I walk the halls with him at school…I never went over to his house for his birthday nor did I offer him a shoulder at any time.  We might have sat beside each other in a math class.  Unfortunately, that would be the extent of our closeness. 

It is usually true that when someone dies, folks attempt to highlight the connection between themselves and the one who has passed.  Many will abruptly elevate an acquaintance to a really good friend.

It seems we want others to understand we knew this person, and we feel like we need to exaggerate to facilitate this. 

Maybe we are trying to embellish how affected we are by this passing, in hopes that we will chisel through our own complicated layers and realize how fortunate we are to still be among the living,

And we will “snap out of it” – whatever “it” might be. 

Maybe we innocently perceive it as a chance to let loose some of the emotions we keep cooped up inside. 

Whatever it is – we experience death when we hear about it. 

Even if you ignore it, you are still responding to it – you are just employing denial.

But, I went to school with the recently-departed for 6 years – grades 7 through 12,  a time in my life when I was reading every face for clues – clues telling me who was harmless; who was triumphant; who was cruel; who was on my side…which person was the most like me.  I am sure I read his face a thousand times, so there is a familiarity. 

In fact, I can picture his face perfectly right now. I haven’t seen him in 25 years, so I try to age him in my mind, but he comes right back as being probably around 12 years old.  

He had a head of curly blonde hair, a kind smile; gentle eyes, and a bashful red flush that would come over his face; this bashful flush was disarming – observable shyness; I knew he would never do anything to hurt me, and that is probably why I spent less time getting to know him.

What a twisted approach to happiness I had.

Back then, I was in the habit of expending half my energy on outrunning unprovoked foes and the other half befriending a challenge. 

A shy, kind soul would have likely gone unnoticed by me in my constant tragedy mode, but I am certain he did not go unappreciated by all those more reasonable.

But, yet,

I am sure I was happy when his seat was next to mine, instead of a foe sitting next to me.

I am sure I was happy when his body stood next to mine in a line, instead of a challenge standing next to me.

He was sanctuary.

And so, for me, without ever realizing it until this minute, this shy, kind guy from high school is well-regarded in my memory.

We don’t often realize how vast, how deep, and how detailed our sphere of knowing is, and I am certain we don’t grasp how many people are inside of it and the roles they played then and play now in our daily interactions…how we use the most ordinary connections from the past to feed what we are doing right now.

For instance, if – today - I saw a man with a head of curly hair and a pink flush on his face, I would be disarmed, and I wouldn't even know why.

The people from our past are present in our today, even though we would never comprehend that as we go along.  Everyone we repeatedly interacted with…even on the smallest scale…has a place in our now.  Some of those impressions are positive…some are quite negative.  Most are somewhere in between.  But, they are here. 

Even when they are gone from sight…

Even when they are gone from the Earth…

Even as we are all getting closer to our own death.

And when I am gone,

I can conclude that only my children will mourn, along with a few relatives, and probably a small number of dear friends. 

But, maybe there will be faraway acquaintances that will remember me, too – people with whom I may not have spent much time or to whom I spoke few words,

but when I was near, their head didn't have to spin with doubt; I allowed them to feel safe, accepted, and relaxed:

Sanctuary.

I am thankful for every sanctuary I never knew I knew.