Odd isn’t it how, when something out of the blue happens, I want to start my posts with ‘odd isn’t it’.
So, odd isn’t it how a voice from the past can uplift you so just by the intonation and the familiarity of their speech. How is it that, even after years of not speaking, we recognise a voice in an instant when sometimes I for one can’t remember where I left my shoes and have to spend ages looking for them? This morning they were in the cellar, my feet must have walked them there of their own accord.
Yes, odd isn’t it, the way that my past is coming together all at once in a rush, bringing me back to places I thought I’d left, faces and voices, the smells, the echoes, the touch of a hand. Yes, I know that voice.
My old friend Dave rang me this evening, out of the blue like it happens sometimes, and despite not having spoken for months, there we were talking about things as if one of us had just gone for a pee in a pub, taking up our halted conversation once the wee-er had shaken, zipped up fast, and returned to his half finished beer.
'Your round Dave!'
So good to hear his voice, so instantly recognisable - so much so that what we talked about is almost unimportant as I was caught up by the lilt of his voice, the memories tumbling, picturing him the way I always see him; in blue Cromby overcoat, hands buried deep in his pockets, deep in thought, ready to take off to God knows where at a moments notice. He’s a deep thinker Dave - a man who suits an overcoat with deep pockets.
A man that sees the whole of the moon, and always has - long before the Waterboys warbled about it.
We chatted and breezed and shared a thought or two, news of family, news of work, agreeing on things generally, not too far away from each other in any way that is important – an easy shared thing, at least it was for me.
And then at the end of the conversation as we said our farewells, me promising to call soon (and I will) but not next week, Dave telling me he loved me and me telling him I loved him back - marvellous and honest and as true as any dye - a friend thing... and the whole of the moon.
‘Life does not get much finer than this.’ I thought as I put down the phone.
And life does not get much finer than that.
Julian. xx
ReplyDeleteGood for you, good for you...
ReplyDeletePersonally I rarely get those kinds of calls any more, for so many reasons but I also think that it might be a generational thing or a "modern times lifestyle" thing... We send that text, write that email and think that we've done our bit to keep the relationship going, but just talking and taking the time to listen, that seems to be a skill many of us are losing.
It's all rather sad really... especially after such an uplifting piece. M.