Why Scenes From a Snow Globe? When I was just a girl I met a boy. To be more accurate, I saw a boy and he saw me. We spoke not a word and then we went home. Miles away, worlds apart. If I have reason to believe in destiny, he is one reason. In a random world, he wouldn’t have been in the same place at the same time a year later. If something beyond us wasn’t at work, we would never have known one another. I was more than shy and we only spoke for moments. But when I got home, I couldn’t forget. With a boldness I didn’t know I possessed, I was compelled to take what little information I had, a city, a last name, and slip a letter through the slot, wondering if it would make it's way to the only one who might remember and understand.
Turns out that world’s apart was the distance from the city to the country, from the Sex Pistols to Journey, from juvenile detention to straight A’s, from divorce to security, from bi-polar to cheerleader. Though it seemed distance was against us, instead it worked for us. Through our teen years countless words tumbled onto paper and traveled between us, so that I experienced his world while he experienced mine. What we gave each other was perspective. And then we grew up.
Years later, in the cyber age, I am a grown-up girl who found a grown-up boy on myspace. Just typed his name in the people-search box one day; I swear I didn’t even think about it first. Destiny. Seems we’re still worlds apart but now the distance is from several continents to my home town, from three Harleys to one old jeep, from two ex-wives and many female companions to a husband of 22 years and counting, from “misanthropist” to pacifist. Again, what we give each other is perspective.
He says sometimes he envies my “life in a snow globe.” Which is the gift of our friendship--seeing the value of my world in a whole new light.
