An echo of the past...
Jun. 9th, 2009 11:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexpgpAn old acquaintance informed me that a tentmate of mine from four decades ago has died.
It's disconcerting, because like Proust's reaction to the taste of his madeleine, hearing my tentmate's name brought back a flood of memories, of what he looked like, of his deadpan sense of humor, of his mannerisms, and of some of the adolescent stunts we pulled after lights out.
I find myself staring off into space, and then snap back to the here and now. It's sad that he died, and probably sadder still that we never kept in touch in the intervening years, but there are bills to be paid.
Cheers...
It's disconcerting, because like Proust's reaction to the taste of his madeleine, hearing my tentmate's name brought back a flood of memories, of what he looked like, of his deadpan sense of humor, of his mannerisms, and of some of the adolescent stunts we pulled after lights out.
I find myself staring off into space, and then snap back to the here and now. It's sad that he died, and probably sadder still that we never kept in touch in the intervening years, but there are bills to be paid.
Cheers...
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no subject
Date: 2009-06-10 05:01 am (UTC)Take the time to write his portrait, even if it's only in small sketches, and maybe other old acquaintances will be moved to do the same. Writing for memorial purposes may not bring in much money, but it assuages the soul's pangs at losing yet another portion of its past.