FOR ONE MOMENT, OUR LIVES MET, OUR SOULS TOUCHED.
Having thought about this little quote a good bit, I’ve wondered where I’d draw a line. How long is a moment? At close to 77 years old ( Dec.31), my moments may be longer than, say, a young person of forty-five or fifty. I am thinking, instead, that the only usable criterion is a person comes into one’s life, touches it in some good way, then moves on, for a variety of reasons. In that case, the length of time is totally unimportant.
Thus, what is left is the part about “our souls touched.” Wow, that gets right down to it, doesn’t it? We can think, ONE ENCHANTED EVENING and IT ONLY TAKES A MOMENT, among other songs, and, given time, I could name a dozen, But, if your souls touched and you married the person, it doesn’t count. The same goes for a long romance, I believe. The souls have to touch --- then move on—you know, get the Hell Outta Dodge.
Also, souls can, and do, touch with no romantic notions involved. Back when I was young, my crowd used to debate whether or not a male and female could have a relationship that was not based on sex, platonic if you will. Apparently ol’ Plato thought so back in 4th century B.C. Of course, I’m speaking of adults in this context, not a bunch of horny 18 year olds.
I used to know a guy that picked up, instantly, on an odd or funny remark, perhaps something “soul touching.” Our eyes met, automatically acknowledging the other’s response, often with just a hint of a twinkle, then moving on. He was about ten years old and I was twenty-two. That was during my first teaching job, at Fowler Street School, in Atlanta. I only had him two or three months before his family moved to another area. I’ve never forgotten him and his quick, bright eyes. I cried when he left. I loved that little boy.
At my age, I’ve been to tons of medical doctors for a variety of ailments, including having babies. I’ll say at the outset, I just don’t usually like docs at all. I purely despise some and barely tolerate others. I remember Mother’s stopping her car in front of the pediatrician’s office, here in Atlanta on Ponce de Leon Ave. when I was two or three years old. As soon as I saw where we were, I opened the car door, hopped out, and started running down the street as hard as my little legs would take me. Think I got about half a block away before my brothers caught me. I’d heard someone use the word ”shots” which is what had triggered my attempted escape. I’m no longer terrified of shots, but I still have to fight the desire to flee at top speed. With that said, I’ve actually had three MD’s that I felt very close to. We’d have been friends in most any situation, I believe, because we had an unspoken meeting of the minds. Ah, maybe “unspoken” comes into the equation, as well.
Over time, I’ve met several people who fit the above description, old, young, men, and women. Some were people I taught and some who taught me. Some were truly just there to have one moment with me, one isolated time. Others were also just for a moment but the moments were repeated at irregular intervals over some period of time. I can’t truthfully say that I actually loved these people, but I do have to wonder if, in another life, I might have loved them.