When the student is ready, the teacher will appear

Life is but a dream by Beverly LeFevre

These days everything around me makes me nostalgic. Movies, TV shows, songs and old books; everything around me carries some kind of hidden meaning, often in the form of fond memories. I guess this is what happens with age, as we are no longer simply creating new memories but recreating and retrieving old ones.

I'm bored and lazily flipping through TV channels from my bed. I come across an old episode of Friends. I'm amazed at how old the entire thing looks: the apartment, their outfit choices, their hairstyles. And I can't believe how young Jennifer Aniston & Courtney Cox look. Did they always look that young?

No one can withstand time, not even Hollywood A-listers, not even me.

Suddenly I remember an old friend whom I haven't thought about in years-- I mean in years. I don't remember his voice or last name but for some odd reason, I remember his favorite show was Friends. 

(People are funny beings. We remember the most random details.)

I was a first year college student. He was a few years older than me. We volunteered as camp counselors for a church youth camp and were assigned to the same group. We spent many Sunday afternoons together preparing for the camp and by the time the weekend came, we all seemed to know each other quite well.

He was cute in a preppy Ivy league college boy kind of way; tall, fit and tanned. For some reason he seemed to be beyond his years. The entire weekend he wore this funny backpack that reminded me of a tortoise shell. I often wondered what he kept in there. He was obviously the outdoorsy type with good exercise routine and few ex-girlfriends. He was older but seemed innocent, different than the sweet-talking womanizers I was used to seeing around my college campus. He was clearly different than most.

I liked his preppy college boy look and modest demeanor. He didn't seem to worry about looking or acting cool in front of women. He had this distinct style, far from trendy but it worked for him. He seemed comfortable and confident in his own skin, even with his funny looking backpack. He radiated an aura that was natural, dependable and genuine.

We organized different games and activities for kids. We built campfires. We hiked through the woods. At one point I remember sitting on stairs under the stars, just him and me, talking. I don't remember what we talked about but I remember certain feelings inside. It wasn't love or lust. Instead, it was a feeling of comfort, the kind you feel next to someone more grounded than yourself.

We never discussed anything beyond the usual and the ordinary but I think there were certain feelings that were mutually experienced and shared. We continued to keep in touch and hung out a few times after the camp. I remember having dinner with him at some restaurant in Costa Mesa. I remember being invited to a BBQ at his place and meeting his friends.

There I remember meeting a nice girl with a cute baby face. He introduced her as an old friend. I remember her being friendly, almost too friendly that it seemed forced and unnatural. She looked at me from time to time with nervousness and suspicion. Women can feel these things.

She was wearing blue jeans and a plain college t-shirt. I was wearing shorts with a baby tee. And wedges, I think. We were obviously different types and can tell after 10 seconds (as most women can) that we were never going to be close friends.

I remember this nice girl being so eager to cook, clean and be right by his side during the BBQ. I remember thinking what the heck is wrong with her? I remember wondering if she liked the guy.

And that's where my memory ends. I think we gradually drifted apart without apparent reason. Perhaps I was too busy going out with my girlfriends while he was watching old episodes of Friends and preparing for life after college. Perhaps I didn't like the way his 'friend' looked at me. Who knows. Either way I wasn't ready to do whatever she was doing.

The next time I heard about him he was in a relationship with that same baby-faced girl. She was the plain jane, sunday school teacher type, probably more his type than me. I was the girl who always lost the battle between saturday night partying and sunday morning mass. I'm sure she made a better girlfriend than me as I was too self-absorbed and juvenile at the time to cook or clean a guy's apartment. Sad but true.

Many years later, I ran into him during Christmas mass when I was pregnant with my first child. I walked into the kids section and there he was, sitting in the pew in front of us. And next to him was a young woman, not his girlfriend but his younger sister....his special needs younger sister. I vaguely remember hearing about his sister.

At that moment something occurred to me. I think I was finally ready to learn something new about myself. He probably didn't feel comfortable sharing his deeper life with me as his girlfriend. During that time I was immature, self-absorbed and proud- too proud to make myself vulnerable, too weak to share my feelings and too self-absorbed to make sacrifices for other people. He was probably much more mature, wise and experienced with real life, especially by loving and taking care of his handicapped sister.

I, on the other hand, was living in my sheltered world with petty worries, oblivious to real life problems and difficulties.

My intuition about him was right-- he probably was (and is) the natural, dependable and genuine guy I thought he was.

My intuition is rarely wrong.

I didn't have the courage to say hello or even smile his way. I should've been mature enough to say hello, but being uncomfortable in my pregnant body and standing next to my husband wasn't the best scenario for extending warm greetings to an old male friend. Plus I felt a hint of shame- shame of who I was and my past inability to share genuine feelings with a genuine person due to my flaws & weaknesses.

I did however, pray for him and his sister during mass. I prayed for his happiness and for his sister's health & well-being. I also told God thank you for this moment because somehow, in some way, I was moved by the presence of him and his sister sitting side by side.

Whatever I was feeling I think he felt too, because he smiled at me reassuringly as I was gathering up my belongings when mass was over. I returned his smile briefly and left the room hoping that he got a glimpse of who I really am inside, even if it was for one short moment on the stairs that night.

A month or so later I gave birth to my first child, a beautiful little girl- who I would later find out, has special needs.

Life has a funny way of teaching us important life lessons through certain people, experiences and events. Sometimes this lesson isn't truly realized until years later, when one is finally ready to learn.

Today through my own story, I'm learning the value of age- the value of wisdom & maturity that comes with age. By remembering who I was ten years ago and comparing that girl to who I am today, I realize how much I've grown and how far I've come.

As much as I miss my youth, I'm grateful for the things I know today.

I'm still learning and growing into a full woman. What's fascinating about life though, is that I'm not only learning from people and events of today but from stories and remnants of the past.

When the student is ready, the teacher will appear - buddhist proverb