An Unremarkable Story

Tim and I were in Sedonna for a few days to ring in 2013. This was a place we visited quite often. On this occasion, it was colder than we had planned for and in fact, it snowed.

We stopped at a random, mom-and-pop outfitter store to get something a bit warmer to wear. As we walked up to the door there was a sign that said, No more than 8 customers allowed in the store.  As we opened the door, we were instructed to wait outside. Capacity had been reached. While we waited, we chatted about the WHY behind the limit. It seemed strange at the time. This was pre-pandemic.

A few minutes passed, a small family came out, and then we were invited in. After we browsed for a bit, a man asked if he could help us. Tim said he was looking for light-weight gloves for hiking. The man pointed us in the right direction and then said – It’s a good idea to have gloves today – hiking with your hands in your pockets is a death wish. You trip and you’ll never catch yourself.

And with that, Tim chose his gloves, we paid and left. And forever more that man’s words were shared as a jocular warning whenever either of us was walking with even one hand in a pocket.

This 15 minute slice of life was memorable to us, but on paper, it’s an unremarkable story. It may be one of thousands that I could offer about Tim and me, and, now, never know for sure if I got it all correct. When you lose someone that you’ve shared many private moments with, you are the only one left with the memory. There are occasionally photos, but there is no one to corroborate the events, or to fill in the gaps for you, or even to interrupt and say, that’s not how it happened, let me tell the story!

At the time, there was something odd and funny about our glove shopping endeavor. And now it is me, repeating it to myself, sometimes out loud or other times, in my own head, while warming my hands in my pockets, it’s a death wish! I chuckle  and smirk. Inevitably, I try to flesh out the full story in my mind. I think this is how it happened. I think this is what was said. And then I doubt myself. And there is no one to verify the information.

How many moments like this do we have with people we are so intimately connected with. They may seem unremarkable to a witness, but to you they are part of the thread, weaving the cloth that warms your relationship with someone you love. And while these threads cannot be cut, due to the passing of time they will surely fray, and one day, you may be left to fondly knit them together on your own.

I’m beginning to think this isn’t so much about getting the story right. It’s a tiny element of something much bigger. There is great meaning in having others in our lives in whose words, and eyes, and soul, we see ourselves.

In my view it has nothing to do with needing others in order to feel validated. And it’s not even about needing someone to love or to love you in return. Because I can satisfy those conditions on my own. I know I can, and I do. Yet, even with all of that, isn’t it still wonderful to know there is someone (or many someone’s) with whom you experience life from time to time. Not only to corroborate facts but to turn to later and say, either with your voice or your eyes – remember that time…

And there it is fully reflected back to you.