“I can’t remember her name,” I said to Vincent.
“Me neither,” he replied.
“I can see her face, but I can’t recall her name for the life of me,” I continued.
That’s when you know that you are faraway. That’s when you know that time has somehow slipped through your fingers. That’s when you know that there is a great chasm—a great divide—that separates you from your life now and your life then.
As we drove back through our old town in France where we had lived for more than seven years, lots of memories began to swirl around in my mind.
Only eighteen months had passed since we left, but our “Land Between” back in Pennsylvania was far from this place. I had made that new land my “home.” I had adopted new ways, new friends, and a new life there.
My ‘Old World’
Now, I was once again confronting my “old world,” my “old life.”
“What was our neighbor’s name—the one we talked to everyday?”
“Who is the boy that Pierre always played with on the playground—his best friend—the cute one with glasses?”
“I can’t remember that lady’s name—the mother of David’s good friend. They were always together.”
The French pharmacist I talked to every week? The shopkeeper from Indonesia in our village? Robert’s soccer coach? Our landlord? Pierre’s teacher? My Pilates instructor? The people we worked with in the community?
How Could I Have Forgotten?
“How could I have forgotten their names? We were always together. We saw each other and talked everyday. I was very close to them,” I thought to myself.
It felt like an eternity ago—like a world away. I guess it was.
How could these people have been such a daily, integral part of my life only 1 1/2 years ago? Now, I couldn’t recall their names. Was it due to my aging, fading memory, or was it due to the time and distance that separated us?
“I wonder if they remember us? Do they recall our names?”
Probably not.
It seems that we have all fallen into the pool of “Forgotten Ones.”
‘Out of Sight, Out of Mind’
What is that famous saying, “Out of sight, out of mind?”
Perhaps it is true. If we don’t intentionally remember, if we don’t intentionally stay in contact . . . we will forget.
What could we have done differently? Stayed in more regular contact with these people? Modern technology is amazing. We really have no excuse. Perhaps we could have taken pictures of all of our friends before leaving France, made a photo album—with names—to look at regularly . . . to remember, to recall . . . to not forget.
While in Paris a few weeks ago, we met up with some old friends that we hadn’t seen in over 2 years. David and their son had been great buddies throughout our many years in France. We wanted the boys to see each other.
It was an awkward moment, as time, space, physical transformation, and lives abroad now separated them as friends.
As parents, we hoped that the connection would still be there. We desired that our boys would just pick up where they left off two years before. That didn’t happen. It saddened me. So much had changed.
What does this mean for us in this new transition?
We just left friends behind who had become like family to us in our “Land of Familiar” in Pennsylvania. As we land on this side of the pond, after crossing the “Bridge of Transition,” we are miles away from them now.
Will We Forget?
Will we forget those we left behind? Will they forget us?
If we return to that “Land of Familiar” in a year or more, will we know their names? Will they know our names?
Only time will tell if they—or we—will be thrown into the pool of “Forgotten Ones.”
For those of you reading this story who live in our “Land of Familiar”—the one we just left—please don’t forget me and my family. We won’t forget you.
Do you remember all those pictures that I was taking before we left? It’s to remember you. You will not be thrown into the pool of “Forgotten Ones.” I promise.
The special gifts you gave us before leaving? They are now sitting in our house in Spain—visible—for us to constantly remember you.
We will not forget.
—The Cultural Story-Weaver
Let’s Weave Cultures!
After a move or transition, have you ever forgotten people and their names—those you were close to and those who were a part of your daily world? How do you intentionally stay in contact with those you have “left behind”? How do you intentionally remember each other, so that you don’t forget—so that no one is thrown into the pool of “Forgotten Ones”?
We invite you to tell us your own cultural stories and global adventures . . . as you engage with the world, breaking down barriers, building bridges, and “weaving cultures!” Write about them in the comment box below.
