We Still Don't Know the Name of the Flower We Saw That Day...
Last weekend, two people went missing. They weren’t people that we had known or had heard about; they were just people whom we had happened to walk by, to camp by - people we had just seen out of the corner of our eyes.
When the fire dept. and Star Flight arrived at the lake last weekend, we honestly had no idea what had happened. We had heard a commotion from our neighboring group that they had seen a body floating in the water, but no one had given any indication that they knew the person, the “male body”, in the water. Speculation arose amongst our group that it was most likely a long deceased body. After all, the fire dept. and Star Flight had not been in any hurry to dive for a potentially-still-alive-person, and the group wasn’t acting like they were missing a member. The thought had never occurred to us that the body was in fact someone we had seen earlier that day. After staring at the scene that had unfolded before us, as if it were a train wreck, we were shooed away by the cops. When we left the lake later that day, we assumed that the body still hadn’t been found - scuba divers were still out in the water.
That evening, we went out to dinner at a restaurant known for its view of the sunset. Being unable to recall the last time I had seen a sunset, I was beyond excited. But, as I watched the sun slowly sink its way beneath the pink and orange hues of the sky, I was saddened. Someone’s life had surely just ended, and here we were, hours later, enjoying ourselves. Time had not stopped. The sun had went down indifferently despite the events that had transpired earlier in the day, just as we went about our day indifferently.
It was a phenomenon that I was not unfamiliar with - I had experienced something similar when my dad had passed away the previous year. My world had shattered to pieces, but everyone continued on with their lives, unaware and indifferent to some girl’s loss. One thought led to another, and I realized that even on a personal level, I wasn’t any different than those people. One year, 2 months, and 18 days had passed since my dad died, and I couldn’t even recall the sound of his voice. I tried and tried, but the only voice that came up was my voice impersonating his voice, which is not quite the same thing. How I longed for the time when my conscience sounded exactly like his voice… What had happened? Had I become so consumed with myself that I forgot, or heaven forbid, disregarded, aspects of the man who raised me into half the person I am today? Am I really that indifferent?
The next day, as I was mulling over those thoughts, one of my friends sent me an article saying that two men had went missing on the previous day. One man, from our neighboring group, had went under - whether it had been from a cramp, an undercurrent, or some health issue, no one knew for sure, but an autopsy of his recently recovered body would indicate otherwise. The second man, his friend, went down after him - his body had not been seen since then.
And the interesting thing about this story? Those men were likely anywhere from 20 to 40 feet away from us that day, and we didn’t notice they had gone missing. We didn’t notice. And, I still don’t know their names unless I read the article.
“The great moments in your life won’t necessarily be the things you do. They’ll also be the things that happen to you. Now, I’m not saying you can’t take action to affect the outcome of your life. You have to take action. And you will! But never forget, that on any day, you could step out the front door, and your whole life could change forever. You see, the Universe has a plan, kids; and that plan is always in motion. A butterfly flaps its wings, and it starts to rain. It’s a scary thought, but it’s also kind of wonderful. All these little parts of the machine constantly working…Making sure that you end up exactly where you’re supposed to be, exactly when you’re supposed to be there. The right place. At the right time.”—Future!Ted Mosby, HIMYM