A Voicemail From The Past

There are a lot of sci-fi movies and Twilight Zone episodes about someone who invents a time machine and goes back in time to make a change in their lives.  However, they soon discover it causes huge repercussions in the present day. 

But what happens when part of your past comes back into your life in the here and now? I think the honest answer is: you can’t be sure. It depends on the circumstances.

 I’ll let you know.

That’s because last week I checked my voicemail and discovered a very unusual message. It was from Jean, a girl from my distant past, who wanted to talk to me.

I was genuinely surprised for two reasons:

1. It was almost 50 years ago - that’s a half-century, folks.
2. Our relationship ended when she broke it off with me.

That hurt eventually mellowed into fond memories I’ve pressed between the pages of my mind, like an old flower. I revisit them now and again. I’ve even written about the breakup, because I believe the pain of loss is an important life lesson to be shared. I suspect that my blog post she read, along with the recent death of a mutual friend, was probably the catalyst for her call.

I get it, I really do. We’re at the point in our lives where work and raising kids is  mostly in the rearview mirror. Old friends and past relationships start to matter again. In fact, I’ve spent the last couple of years reaching out and reconnecting with people I’d drifted away from. Maybe  Jean was experiencing those same feelings. 

Still, I was intrigued. This wasn’t a phone  message to remind me that my car warranty was about to expire. This was a real person from a real time in my life, reaching across several decades.

The minute I heard her voicemail, I knew exactly what I had to do. Even a moron would’ve known there was only one right move: get the okay from Corporate - aka my wife, Carol. Of course, I’m sure some guys would say,”Oh, go ahead. Return the call. Forgiveness is easier to obtain than permission.” There’s a term we use to describe people like that - single. 

Naturally, Carol knew all about Jean, because she was the girl I started dating  after the breakup. How did that turn out?  That was nearly 50 years and five grandchildren ago.

Surprisingly, she was unfazed. Maybe that’s because Jean’s message made it a point to include her in the plans to meet for lunch. And although she denied it, Carol’s curiosity had to be burning just a little.

Even with Corporate’s blessing, I was a bit nervous about returning the call. After all, we didn’t just drift apart, it was a breakup - one that had been decidedly one-sided; she was the breaker, I was the breakee. Even a half-century later, that still stings a little. Rejection is indeed a powerful, mystical potion.  Nevertheless, I picked up the phone and punched in her number.

A surprisingly familiar voice answered,“Hey Joe!”

“Jean!,” I replied.  “I’ll be honest, this is not a phone call I ever anticipated having.”

We both laughed, and in just a few seconds we were engaged in a conversation that was relaxed, natural. She even told me she was sorry for hurting me. It was as comfortable as a loose-fitting sweatshirt. I recall that it had always been that way with us.

In fifteen minutes, we caught up on as much of the last half-century as we could. Before we hung up, we promised to get together for lunch the next time she was in town with all three of us.

I hung up the phone.

“Well?” Carol asked. “Are you leaving me?”

I replied, “Nah. Not right now. I’ve got to get all the passwords first.” Then I added, “I think you’re going to like her.” 

Even though I still don’t know what it means when someone from your past reappears in your life after 50 years, I have a good feeling about it. But if nothing else, it’s a good reminder to check your voicemail regularly because you never know when the past is going to call. And if it does, do yourself a favor and answer it. 

After checking with Corporate, of course.