Happy Arkansas Update
Awhile back, I wrote about Shanda, me flipping her Camaro on a gravel road near Cherokee Village AR, the letter I sent, owning my own shit about the whole situation, and my sent apology. And last I said anything, I mentioned I hadn't heard anything back. Well, now I have....
It started with a return message from her saying that she didn't remember the letter I talked about and that it was good to hear from me. She gave me her number and told me to feel free to call her sometime. So about a week later, I did....and got her answering service. I left a message and then didn't hear anything back for a few days.
Tuesday was the one day last week that I remembered to grab my Bluetooth before I left for work. I was headed down the hill towards home, having picked up pizza for dinner (my night to cook), when my Bluetooth beeped in my ear, my phone vibrated, and the sound of "Guitar Trip" (my ringtone pretty much since I got the phone) sounded. It was Shanda.
Long story short, we talked for a little bit and then again later that night for longer.
She doesn't remember the letter I wrote all those years ago for reasons that are hers to tell. For her, for that reason....that she doesn't remember....no healing is apparently necessary regarding the aftermath of the accident. (It seems I'm the only one who'd been carrying these things all this time...lesson there....and a "love tap" from the Universal Clue-by-Four....about not holding onto things.) For me, the healing has begun.
We caught up on the some of the doings in our lives, had a good time talking, and plan to talk more in the future. This good ting.
Incidentally, I'm reminded of a story I've heard a couple of times. 2 monks were headed somewhere and came to a stream and a lady who needed to get across. They were not supposed to touch women, but one of the monks picked up the woman and carried her across the stream. Then the monk put her down and the two monks went on their way. After awhile, the monk who hadn't carried the woman across said, "You picked up that woman." "Yes," said the other. "But that is forbidden," said the first. "Yes, but I put her back down," said the other, "Why are you still carrying her?"
It started with a return message from her saying that she didn't remember the letter I talked about and that it was good to hear from me. She gave me her number and told me to feel free to call her sometime. So about a week later, I did....and got her answering service. I left a message and then didn't hear anything back for a few days.
Tuesday was the one day last week that I remembered to grab my Bluetooth before I left for work. I was headed down the hill towards home, having picked up pizza for dinner (my night to cook), when my Bluetooth beeped in my ear, my phone vibrated, and the sound of "Guitar Trip" (my ringtone pretty much since I got the phone) sounded. It was Shanda.
Long story short, we talked for a little bit and then again later that night for longer.
She doesn't remember the letter I wrote all those years ago for reasons that are hers to tell. For her, for that reason....that she doesn't remember....no healing is apparently necessary regarding the aftermath of the accident. (It seems I'm the only one who'd been carrying these things all this time...lesson there....and a "love tap" from the Universal Clue-by-Four....about not holding onto things.) For me, the healing has begun.
We caught up on the some of the doings in our lives, had a good time talking, and plan to talk more in the future. This good ting.
Incidentally, I'm reminded of a story I've heard a couple of times. 2 monks were headed somewhere and came to a stream and a lady who needed to get across. They were not supposed to touch women, but one of the monks picked up the woman and carried her across the stream. Then the monk put her down and the two monks went on their way. After awhile, the monk who hadn't carried the woman across said, "You picked up that woman." "Yes," said the other. "But that is forbidden," said the first. "Yes, but I put her back down," said the other, "Why are you still carrying her?"