Today would have been my 40th anniversary if Lori.
I miss Lori on some strange level. I suppose I remember the shy little creature
I dated 40-44 years ago, predating the beginning of the end. In that smaller
window of my story, I can still see a rather cheerful period; an experience I enjoyed
very much. In those years, I was in need of a miraculous rescue. From ages 0-14,
I was developing and living in a story of complete anxiety. I was a wild
Mustang of a horse. I hid behind hills and drank from streams and foraged in
that wilderness of unhappy isolation. I could not really fit in anywhere. I
would go to school and I was an outcast, making friends with the unruliest
students I could find. I only made such friends because I could not identify
with anyone who fit in socially. When The Universe introduced Lori as a
supporting actress in my story, I found myself playing parts I had never
played. I found out that dating would require a trip to a restaurant; something
I had only done once or twice in my life. I did not know about these buildings
where food was offered and servers would ask me difficult questions like, “Would
you like some fresh grated parmesan cheese?”
It may sound like a simple question, but questions like that
produced such uncomfortable feelings within me. “If I say no, will I offend
this person? Does the cheese cost more? Does the server really have time to
bother with such a selfish request?”
These imponderables would cause my heart to race and a bead
of sweat would appear on my forehead. I stammered and sent the friendly server
away, wishing I could have enjoyed the cheese I just refused.
To say that I was an awkward teenager is as much of an
understatement as saying the ocean is wet.
Lori was not my girlfriend or a permanent fixture in my
life; that was never the intention. Of course, my desire was to keep her on as
my mate, but a Greater Mind knew that she had a limited role. Lori was a door
into an adventure. When I was 19, and finally stepping through that door, I saw
Lori and I as joint-protagonists. But later that day – this day, 40 years ago –
I was given the clue of a lifetime and it was a literal sign, with two words on
it and those two words captured the essence of the entire story of Lori. I did
not realize this then, but the two words on that sign were there to reveal the
title of the play in which Lori and I were costars. The two words? Journey’s
End. That night, the epilogue was printed and the hardcover edition of the very
first book of The Chronicles of My Life was bound.
It seemed unusual to begin a series of books with the first
one being referred to as The Journey’s End, but it was the end; not of my life’s
story, but of the story a complete adventure, where I was as wild as a Mustang
and broken by a little, redheaded girl.
So today still marks an anniversary for me; it’s the
anniversary of the end of book one. Without the first book, The Journey’s End, I
would not have been prepared to accept the call we read about in the second
book. Lori appeared in the first few chapters of the second book, but only to
set up the characters who would help me over the threshold and back into the
special world. Every Hero’s Journey begins in a mundane, ordinary world.
Shortly after I stepped through the door of perception, which was introduced in
the first episode of my life, I found myself in a very ordinary state. At that
point, I could ask for parmesan cheese without the slightest delay. I was in
this ordinary state for eight years into the second book, but the phone rang,
and it was Lori. “Meet me,” She said, “and let’s say, ‘goodbye.’”
I agreed and we met at a middle school, located almost exactly
in the middle of where we began and where we ended up. From that meeting, I watched
her drive away and then I turned and answered the call back into the special
world.
