Within the last fifteen of my declining years,
people I haven't seen for years have called or come to my door. They've come weeks, months, sometimes years apart. Friends from my childhood, friends from my youth, and even more surprising, nearly every woman I've ever romanced.
Some came alone, Some came with their children, husbands, and wives. Most came to spend a few hours in remembering old times, in telling me how their lives have changed, and in asking how my life has changed.
I've rarely discovered how they found me or why they bothered. We usually can't remember how we drifted apart. In some cases, we'd rather not remember.
Some few came to renew old acquaintance.
Willie Nelson said, "You can't make new Old Friends". A few of my old friends, that are now new friends have proved him wrong. I'm grateful for old friends that want to be new friends. Real friends stay that way even when long years separate their friendship.
Several years ago the Kansas City Star published
one of my stories in their weekend magazine. The piece was a nostalgic reminisce of my childhood in Missouri and Iowa.
Relatives living in Kansas City read the story and called to say it brought back memories. I'm always pleased when people recall something in their own lives because of something I've written.
One call surprised me.
"Hi, this is Joann King. Are you the same Ken Shipley I remember from when I was a little kid"?
I answered in amazement, "Yes I am".
Joann had read the piece in the Star and somehow found my number. We talked for nearly an hour. We remembered each other perfectly. The seventy-some years between then and now didn't seem to matter.
At one point I told her I still had a photo of us together.
She said, "I was a cute kid wasn't I".
I said, "Yes you were".
We exchanged a few letters and then once again went our individual ways.
Joann King and me - 1946
I wonder about these re-connections with people from my past. Are they unusual, or are they common?
I don't think they only happen to me. Are certain people woven together in an unseen fabric for some purpose unknown?
I suspect so.
I've no rational reason to think any such thing.
Yet I do. As I grow older I have less faith in rationality. Despite knowing much more than I ever did, I'm certain
of less and less.
I am certain of God. I'm also certain that one day
in Heaven I will be reunited with every person that ever mattered to me.
I'm certain of that for each of us.
I don't know why.