when the past calls

"He is that guy," she says, conspiratorially.

"Which guy?" I ask 

 {not totally sure about the flush that crept into her cheeks and the way she picked at the edge of the loose leaf paper on the table in front of her}

"You know, that guy you used to have a thing with.  That guy from a long time ago, who, if I would have known I was going to see him today, I would have worn something a little less frumpy..."

Aha, that guy.

The one who remains vivid in the reel of your past narrative. The one who flushes your cheeks and causes you to ponder the "what if..."  The one who makes an appearance into your present every now and again and creates a bit of a stir in your resolve.  

I think I know a guy like that.

"When the past calls, don't answer." 

{the sign warns} 

"It has nothing good to say."

I thought of "that guy," as I drove past.

The next day, I received some disappointing news - in that moment. The one that pauses like stop-action film in your mind - the one you replay in levels far beyond the reach of your subconscious. It broke me apart for a while. Unresolved spaces in my narrative blistered open and I felt vulnerable, exposed.
The moment left me momentarily immobilized and uncertain. 

Aha, that moment, you say;

yeah, I think you know a moment like that.

Two weeks later, I sat across from a friend who took on the challenge of writing about each year of life, in anticipation of a 40th birthday.   The project, my friend reports, was exciting and engaging until that year...the year that is difficult to put into words because it is overpowered by regret, and maybe a little shame.  

It is hard to get past that year, my friend relates, even if the ones beyond it are pretty great.   

Aha, that year.  

I think I know a year like that.

Those guys, those moments, and those years, they call on us every now and then.  They flush our cheeks and leave us a little speechless, wishing we were a little more of this and a little less of that.  

The temptation and admonition {from a variety of sources...in a variety of ways} is to leave the call unanswered - to believe the call has nothing good to say.

Indeed, it is likely true that answering the call and shutting off our call-waiting to give exclusive attention bears little good.
However, our past is significant. 

{for good or for bad} 

We are the partners, lovers, friends, professionals, parents, and persons we are because of the path on which we've journeyed.  The past does call and it demands our attention. 

I guess I believe it is worth answering the call from time to time - to take a minute to chat.

The ability to commune with our past helps us grow beyond who we are now into who we become.