My wife and I were laying on our couch, getting in some snuggling time after a day of cleaning the rig from stem to stern. Vacuuming, dusting, doing laundry, oiling the rather dry wood.. All the things that you tend to put off as life tends to get in the way. Ours might be somewhat of an exception to that rule, but, our “version” of life can get in the way.
Skiing, scuba diving, backpacking, and yes a couple of days of work. Roaming through Breckenridge or Dillon, Colorado. Mostly getting out and about to see what is local and fun. Such is our life. It is fun, exciting, relaxing, and to us, ideal.
I had this incredible flashback or “vision” of around 1980 or so. Lynda and I used to lay on my “poof” or bean bag at my house. (remember those bean bags?) Anyhow, I would lay there and wonder what our future held. I knew I saw a future for us, I could feel it, taste it, I could almost see it, but it always seemed to cloud over right when I saw that bright spark in Lynda’s eyes. It would flash, and for a moment, I could see… something.
When we broke up after I joined the Marines, I can remember standing on the 3rd deck of the Supply Company barracks in the twenty two area in Camp Pendleton, looking out at the helicopters coming in and out of the airfield, and kept wondering what happened to her. How she was doing, who she might be and of course a twenty something mind would go off into the void, and I would end up with a beer in front of myself, sitting in the 22 area E-Club and with a heavy sigh, on to whatever the Corps had to offer.
Years later I had returned to Roswell, New Mexico, (no alien jokes PLEASE) and used to run a 5.5 mile loop that went by Lynda’s parents home. I would look longingly at that home, wondering if by chance she might happen that day to be there. And of course, I never stopped, just kept running by. I left New Mexico again, and went to Alaska, and again, wondered what might have happened to Lynda. Eventually, I left that thought for a new love in my life, Connie Calhoun, and this was 1989.
In 2001 my world came to a halt. My wife, Connie, died after her diagnosis of pancreatic cancer. 163 days from diagnosis to death, that fast. Something neither of us ever saw coming. We had been together almost 12 years. Been married almost 4 of that. I left Alaska on a “walkabout” an Australian term for go travel until you find yourself again.
I returned to New Mexico, and this time, I stopped at Lynda’s house. I met her mom of whom I had not seen in twenty some odd years. The years had been very kind to her, and she was very kind to me. She told me that Lynda was married, and that JD (Lynda’s father) was still kicking. Mostly small talk, but I could tell something was a bit off. I told her thank you, and left, with no intent of ever looking for Lynda again, as she was married, so that was that.
Two years later, I was leaving Alaska permanently. My house had become a mausoleum, and if I didn’t do something I would end up joining Connie in that trip to the great beyond. I had just been contacted by John Wolf, a friend that owned a home in Girdwood, the local ski area in Alaska. It was about 45 minutes outside of Anchorage, and he needed someone to house sit for him. Shucks. While my house was up for sale, I had a place to stay.
In that time-frame, I started looking for places to go, to do that “walkabout”. I was on Classmates and as I was looking for old friends to go visit, I stumbled across Lynda’s email address. I sent her an email asking if this was indeed the same Lynda Smith I knew in high school. Time crawled until I got a response. It was. and we started up a conversation through emails. After some time, I asked her how she was REALLY doing. She replied with leaving a bad job and a bad relationship. I offered her a trip up to Alaska.
She took it.
We stayed at John’s house until March, and left Alaska in an 18 foot travel trailer, and my home was in the process of being sold for above what I asked for. We were happy, and on the road to an adventure.
Since then, we have been joined at the hip, and happily so. The past almost 11 years has been magical. There have been incredibly happy moments and incredibly scary moments. and quite the mix of the two. We are currently in Breckenridge Colorado, with the snow lightly falling outside our home on wheels. As I lay with Lynda on the couch, listening to her breathe, and watching the snow fall and blow outside, there was this flash, this sudden “flashback” of that vision.
It was that vision that I had almost managed to see in 1980. It was the future that I knew we had together, one I was completely convinced would happen. Just had no idea of how, when or where. I believe in quantum physics, the concept that time is not linear, it does not travel in one direction, we simply perceive it that way. Today, here and now, I have had the opportunity to believe that sometimes, just sometimes, life can be foreseen, imagined or not. And I have to admit…
That vision has been one of the best in my life, and I can safely say that it was not imagined.
The other vision? Seeing Lynda as an old woman puttering around in our kitchen, smiling, eyes shining, and happy. I look forward to seeing that again, in the next flashback down the road. When experiences like this happen?
It makes me relish the coming years.