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 "Hi, I'm Amy." I stuck out my hand as I introduced myself. We could have stood silently, waiting for the elevator but I felt compelled to have a small conversation after a long day. "I'm Brooke," she said as she shook my hand. She was much taller than me, thin, with a nurturing voice. We talked about little things, things "grown ups" usually talk about--work, office stories and more work. A brief pause and then, as if it had been on her mind the whole time, "You look really familiar. Have we met before?" This happens to me quite often and, I guess I just have one of those faces that reminds people of someone they knew or know. I remember once, when I was 10 or 11, I was leaving the music store after a piano lesson when I heard a lady softly calling out, "Rose... Rose... Rose..." I didn't really pay attention to it because there were a few other people around. I was almost out the door when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and found myself face-to-face with an elderly lady. Her eyes searched my face before landing on my eyes. Her eyes were blue, verging on gray. I imagined how blue her eyes must have been when she was younger, how they must have pierced so many, how they must have drawn so many in. "Rose?" I remembered shaking my head and saying, "I-I'm sorry. I don't... I don't know who that is. It's not me." Something in her eyes changed and she dropped her gaze. "Oh," she said. With one word, she overwhelmed me with her sadness. She let go of my shoulder and quietly shuffled away. I hope she found Rose. I studied Brooke's face quickly, taking in her earthly eyes, sun-kissed skin and the beginnings of some wrinkles in the friendliest way. There's no way we could have met; she looks much older than me, I thought. And I've never met a Brooke before! When I say "much older," I don't just mean physically but I also mean she looked more mature, like she has been through things I have yet to experience (the eyes always give it away). "Are you from Jersey?" I asked, answering her question with a question. "No... Colorado," she replied, pronouncing Colorado like caah-lah-rah-doe. "But, I mean, I've been in New York for... 12 years now. It's been so long, I consider myself a New Yorker." A pause. "Do I look familiar to you?" she asked. Strange as it was, despite growing up in different places, she really did look familiar. I felt like I knew her from another time, another life. "You actually do..." I said, trailing off. We both looked at each other, wondering and wondering. The elevator arrived and we talked a bit more on the way down. Once we exited the building, we both said goodbye and goodnight. This weekend is the start of summer, and I hope everyone enjoys it! For me, it's a much needed long weekend to recuperate after a horrifying week. So I threw together a little mix of songs here, a bit of soul and blues. Cheers! |
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Hi, my name is Amy. Be well, and say hello!
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In another life, she was probably your best friend forever. And forever includes this life, of course. You should find her again and be bffs again!
Maybe one day you will both find yourselves in the same elevator again. It always bothers me when I see a familiar face and I'm left wondering why it is so familiar. Isn't it neat how this little event all started with you introducting yourself?