But I walked and walked, and walked some more, and had a French Dip at Boudin, and multiple cups of hot chocolate, while enjoying the crisp, fresh sea air and the beautiful sights of nature in and around the marina and bay. And, well, people watching of course. There's always that too.
Speaking of people, earlier this week I was going through old cards and letters from my previous life as an undergrad in college, enjoying the nostalgia of times gone by, and finding letters from some people who, for the life of me, I can't even remember. But I also found a couple of cards from an old friend who I have not seen or heard from in...20 years or so. I've never been good at keeping in touch with people, and frankly there are few who, looking back, I truly wish I had kept in touch with over the years. Which, I know, must sound a little bit snobbish or else just outright sad. Maybe a little of both.
But this person is one whom I do wish I had kept in touch with, as they were a prominent part of my life during a time which proved to be a great crossroads in my life, at least in retrospect. The last I had heard from them, they were married and had a kid (having proclaimed, "Look I made a person!"). And it was so, so long ago. I have no idea where they are now, what became of them, if they are still happily married and living their best life. If they even are alive (morbid thought). Or if they would even wish to hear from me again after all this time (pessimistic thought).
So, I did what any rational middle-aged man pining over his lost youth would do, in my newfound desire to rectify the mistakes of my past. I wrote her a letter. Not an email, mind you, but an honest-to-God, ink-on-paper, sealed-in-an-envelope-with-a-stamp letter. Seriously, who writes letters anymore? There was a time, before cell phones and computers and emails, where that's all we had. And we'd send these meticulously handwritten notes off into the world, trusting in an expedient and accurate delivery by postmen walking their beat through suburban neighborhoods. And in general it worked pretty well, though not always expediently. And of course it was this medium of correspondence that I was reminiscing over, so it seemed appropriate given the circumstances.
I tell you, it's been a long time since I've written - by hand - that much. And it was only one page. Single sided. And my hand hurt afterwards. My how soft we've become!
In any case, I was somewhat limited in that the only address I had for this person was their parents' house. At least it was their parents' house 22 years ago. I have no idea if they're still there, or if anyone's there who would know them or her or could possibly pass the letter on to its intended recipient, wherever in the world she may be. But it's what I had to work with, so I figured what the heck, and sent it off into the void. It cost little for me to do. A postage stamp. Chances are, it will probably end up in someone's recycle bin. Or, if I'm lucky, it might bounce back to me as undeliverable. At least then I'd know.
But hey, what did I have to lose?
And who knows, maybe the hand of fate will smile down on me, and somehow, sometime, that letter will make it successfully to the end of its intended voyage. Stranger things have happened. Maybe not to me, but to somebody. So I've heard. And who knows, maybe, someday I'll actually receive a reply. That's the thing that was kind of neat about mailing letters - waiting in anticipation for a reply. Checking the mailbox each day for a letter with your name on it. But again, in all likelihood, I will not see a reply. If I do...I'll be sure to update this post at the end. And thus, my dear readers can join me, waiting in anticipation for something that may never come.
You never know. At least I tried.
UPDATE: My old friend got the message. We had a nice chat and caught up a bit. Here's to finding friends from the past!
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