Another you.

“Yesterday morning, just before noon,

I passed a girl wearing your old perfume.

And I stopped and stared,

I could almost see you standing there.

Don't get me wrong - I'm almost over you,

But now and then I like to go walking through

Some of our old times

Even though I realize,

I'll have another chance

I'll find another girl,

I'll see another day

And I'll build another world,

I'll start another life just like you told me to

And I'll find another love

But there will never be another you.”

It happens everyday. Maybe not to all of us, but it does happen. We walk by someone, or look out of the corner of our eye, and see something that reminds us of someone who is, or was, very important in our lives. Sometimes they are still in it, other times they have travelled on to a different location in life.

Absolutely no doubt about it, a memory is what separates humans from the rest of living beings. I know our dogs know who I am, but I assure you if I left, and they never saw me again, they would want to be scratched, petted, and fed by whoever came into their lives—and yes, they would be happy. I believe they like me, but they have other needs that are much more important---a bowl of food and a bone to chew, rank at the top of their list.

I had a very weird thing happen to me a few years ago; right after the passing of my Mom, I was on an plane and there, sitting one row in back of me, was a woman who was the “spitting image” of my mother. Needless to say I did more than a double take—but I could not say anything. For anyone who knows me, I have no problem talking with people, but this really spooked me. I looked over many times hoping, and wishing, it were really her; but of course it was not. However, for a short period of time—two hours to be exact---I felt complete again. There was my Mom and she was one row to the right of me.

As a son, husband and father, we live through times of change---I realize there are going to be situations that are not always what I want to have occur, but I learn, or try to learn, to deal with them. There is little doubt, for the people who have taught me the better ways in life, “there will never be another you.”

The photo above was taken on April 4, 2008. It was my birthday, we were at a family event, and we knew my Mom was not well; unfortunately we were more than right. This is the last photo taken of our family, with my Mom, before she was in and out of the hospital leading to her death. I miss you Mom, I really hope to see you again on a plane soon.

Thanks for stopping by.