I am like a living vampire. My image will not leave an impression on your retinas. I am not someone you will meet and then remember four years later, heck even six months later. I am not some super powerful influential person that the paparazzi will hound.
I am not someone so profoundly interesting that you must know me and go out of your way to learn my name.
I am visually not attractive. (that avatar photo of me is a fluke.)
I have done nothing in my life that warrants recording in the history books.
So why do people remember me? Why do people want to know me?
I just don't get it.
A while ago a fellow on the night shift called me by name and asked me a question.
I have worked in the same faculty as this man for many years and didn't know his name. Had no idea he even knew who I was let alone my name.
Most people can't just see my name and know how to pronounce it. Someone has to tell you how its pronounced. Which means he went to the trouble to ask someone what my name was and how to pronounce it and then memorize it.
That just baffles me.
There have been other instances too. When I took my farm son to first grade his teacher just happened to be the same woman who taught me first grade. I remember her because she had a strange French name and I couldn't pronounce it....which was fine she couldn't pronounce mine either. As far a I knew I was just a shy kid who faded into the back ground and made no impression.
JEH and I walked in and she looked up and her eyes lite up. She came right over and asked "is this your son?"
I replied, "I wish he was my son, but hes not, he lives with his grandma and me."
She clapped her hands and touched my shoulder. " oh this is so exciting! he is the first second generation child I have gotten to teach!"
I pulled back in my head. woah...is she telling me she knows who I am 20+ years later? Not possible, she must think I am someone else.
"So how have you been P?" she says.
and my heart always reacts the same way. Like its been stabbed, when this happens. I spend most (all?) of my life feeling like I was invisible to the everyone on this planet. Are you kidding me? You SAW me?
When I am struggling with suicidal thought, my mind always tells me "no one will miss you...no one knows you are here."
My presence on this planet will be minuscule in the big picture. But to a few people, I mean something. Just like they mean something to me. Maybe not forever, but for now.
I have too many walls around me still even to this day. You can love me but from a far. My soul still damaged and defensive. Then there are those people who just climb over my walls and hug me and pull up a chair and sit down.
Those brave souls who love me for no rhyme of reason. Those who don't ask to be my friend, they just are.
I don't get them either.
Even though I don't understand it. Its a rich blanket that covers my soul and eases the pain. It makes life's journey a bit more palatable knowing someone knows I am here.