In March, 2020, Annabelle blew in from spring break in Edinburgh, a refugee swept back home after the brand new Covid abruptly preempted her senior year. One third of the way into their final college term, Furman seniors were shown the gate, with no fanfare or fond farewell.
During her residency here, Annabelle accomplished extraordinary things, the most outstanding of which was pointing out the countless ways I could and should improve my lot in life.
The highlight from her tenure came around one day as I was pondering what I should wear for an occasion. The details of my wardrobe choice and intended destination have long since faded, but this moment lives on in perpetuity:
Me: "What do you think?"
Annabelle: "You look fine. But, at your age, no one really cares”.
~~~~~
I wrote down the details of this moment quite a while ago and, ever since then, I’ve been working out what I feel about this, the greatest writing prompt ever in the history of the world. I pondered all the directions I could go, but never quite landed on exactly what I wanted to say.
Then Greatest Writing Prompt II came along two weekends ago:
Annabelle was looking through my phone and came across a screenshot photo of a beautifully understated staircase with a landing halfway along, before the stairs turn and finish going up.
Annabelle: “What’s this?”
Me: “A staircase I love, just in case I ever get to build a house again”.
Annabelle: “Well, that’s never gonna happen”.
~~~~
Firstly, it should be noted that Annabelle and I are big big pals; for as long as I can remember, she's been my novelty child on whom I can count to keep me walking the straight and narrow. We have a lot of fun, her counsel is usually right on target, and conversation with her is always a joyously direct riot. I really have the perfect set-up with both Annabelle and William, my messengers from the young world, ever ready to bring me all the news.
So my best friend forever Annabelle presented me the Golden Ticket, thereby freeing me up from concerns about how I present myself to the world. In a somewhat subtle and sneaky fashion across time, I have also gotten wind from the outside world that I have arrived in the land of irrelevancy. It's not a bad thing at all, it's just how life works. But, that being said, I'm not quite ready to give up. I'll just work away with whatever scraps I have left, here in obscurity.
In all fairness, there was a time when I had the very same perspective about the lesser degree of relevance held by people dwelling in all those decades above me. I looked at them like I was a tourist in their strange land--there couldn't be that much fun, surprises seemed limited, and I figured living vicariously through one's grown children filled up the time. It would amaze my younger self to know I was well off the mark--there is plenty of life and joy available for those who are willing.
Save for some latter day miracle, the flaming arrow launched at my ever-enduring home-building fantasy is, alas, a likely bullseye. But I do have a charming house, and I can dream and think about all sorts of ways to make it more fabulous--and that is plenty.
By the time one reaches this age, many of life’s biggest mysteries have been revealed—growing up is long finished, schooling complete, lifestyle in place, the children are well and truly here, and the career path is mostly known. Once upon a time, the future was a vast and hazy mystery, and so much time was spent wondering about how things would turn out. Now knowing a heaping helping of life's story--and how quickly it all went by--can't help but conjure up both astonishment and thankfulness.
Right along with those fading looks in the mirror. my hopes and expectations have naturally shifted and changed across the years. But I love to think there is work left to be done, things to be learned, more friends to know and love, and certainly there are adventures out there to be had. I'll just get back to trying to make something nice with what I have, for now and the tomorrows ahead.
And, should I need further enlightenment, I'll just wait patiently for Annabelle to do the business.
We like each other just fine
