A Life Story (For Carmen)

Part 1: The Story

Everybody has a story. This is mine. It’s a very personal one. It’s a story that I never thought I could or would write. It’s a story about a childhood memory, heartache, and longing. It’s about a small act of kindness that can change a person, that can affect them for the rest of their life. It’s a story about a person, a girl. I wrote the story for her. It’s also a story about me. The the only reason I am sharing it now is because the person that it’s for will never see it. I also wanted to write it so that it’s now free, outside in the world, and not locked up inside my heart anymore.

It’s taken me a long time to decide to write all these words down. I’m no writer for sure. But I feel I must bring these words into existence so that they are real, and not just in my mind.

And the truth is that for a long time, there haven’t been any words that are sufficient to describe what I feel. I only felt the emotions, the feelings of it all. I didn’t know how to write it all down, or even if I could.

On some days I feel that I can barely understand the reasons for what happened, or why. I don’t have the answers even though I’ve searched for them. I only know that something special happened. And that it was supposed to happen. I can’t explain it any other way.

I will say that I’ve had a-lot of loneliness in my life, so maybe it’s part of that. Maybe it’s because I’m a very nostalgic person, always looking back to the past. Or perhaps it’s a Limerence thing, or maybe I’m just messed up in my mind. Maybe it’s all of that, I don’t really know. But it’s not nothing. It’s a deep and personal experience. Nothing else I’ve experienced has come close to matching it.

Everything I write below is true, and real, it really happened. And I write it with honesty. How I really felt, how I really feel. What I really remember.

The story started originally in the distant past, when I was a young boy, when I didn’t know anything about anything. When I was too young to know what I should have known, too young to see what I should have seen, and too young to care about what I should have cared about. Though I can’t be too harsh on myself about it. I was just too young. But I did remember it. I recorded the memories in my mind. I guess that was the best I could do at the time. The memories are there still.

I’ll begin in the closing months of 1999, more than 26 years ago. When I was much younger, age 23 going on 24, in my old life, before I left South Africa. On one of those days back then, I found a picture of myself, a school photo of me, taken in 1989 I believe, of my younger self, in school uniform. And so I thought after seeing that photo that it was maybe time for a thoughtful lookback, to go through all the family and school photos that we had kept over the years.

I believe, if memory serves me correctly, that I had to continue this task later on in the day, or the next day. So I returned later on that day or the next, back to the photos, and started looking through them. They had been collected there, behind the couch in our lounge, for a long time, slowly gathering dust. I hadn’t seen them for many years. Most were not in photo albums, they were lying at the bottom of the bookshelf, undamaged and undisturbed.

As I mentioned, I’m a nostalgic person, and that’s what I was ready for when I started looking at the pictures. It’s always nice, and a bit sad (and happy too) to look back at your life, at your family, friends, pets and school acquaintances, and all the experiences that you had. That’s what I expected, and I thought I was now old enough to look back into the past a little bit.

But when looking through the pictures, something else happened, something that I didn’t expect. Something that I couldn’t even imagine that could happen to me. I saw someone in the pictures, someone who was there long ago. Once I saw that person, everything changed, forever.

As I was going through the pictures, I happened upon two of them. Both were school class photos, from the early years, right back at the beginning, from the first two years of school. Taken in 1983 and 1984 (but not counting the first year in 1982 as I had to repeat Grade 1 in 1983).

As I looked at both pictures, scanning the faces of the children, some of their names I remembered, some I didn’t. I wasn’t in touch with any of them, they had long since moved on with their lives.

In those two pictures, my eyes focused on a girl. A girl from the distant past. I hadn’t seen her since that time or even thought about it since then. In truth, I had totally forgotten. Had I not found those pictures I would never have remembered her.

She was a girl with a sweet smile and long beautiful hair. Somehow she was familiar to me. And when I thought about it and concentrated a little, I remembered her name. It was Carmen. That was the first time I remembered her name since the time that she was still there, 15 years ago.

As I kept looking at her, in those two pictures, and before I could move on to others, there was something that kept me there, a feeling in my mind that was telling me that something happened with her and I. Something good, a good thing is how I can describe what I was feeling. Something had happened, all those years ago. I couldn’t shake that feeling. So I searched my mind and my memories to find out.

It only took a little bit of time, maybe seconds, maybe minutes, and all of a sudden, there it was in my mind, it came flooding back to me. A memory of her had surfaced.

But this was no ordinary memory, it was not like the other memories that I had. Never before or since have I had a memory like this. It was so familiar to me, yet it was hiding all that time inside my mind, buried deep down, for years and years. I had completely forgotten about it. I hadn’t thought about it since it happened. Not since I was a boy. Now there it was in my mind after all those years. And I couldn’t believe it. I was amazed and shocked at the same time.

This memory was a flashback, a bridge into the past. All of a sudden I felt young again. I felt I was there again, on that day, as a boy, aged 7, and all the time between then and now, 16 years, had been erased, so that it felt like it happened only yesterday. It was a sweet and touching memory of that girl, Carmen.

It was a memory from back when I was in the old King David Sandton school, the one in Morningside (a suburb in Johannesburg). A year before the new school had opened in Woodmead. That’s how far back it was.

On that day, back in 1983, our class had a school trip in the morning to buy books, not school books, but books for learning how to read, picture books, comic books, books like that. The place where we had to go wasn’t far away. It was on the other side of the road across from the School. We walked off the school grounds in the morning, with a teacher, and crossed the road, to where the Jewish Guild (a sports and recreational center) used to be. There, in that place, in a room, on that day, were some books there that I saw. On a book stand with other books. And after looking at them, I wanted to buy some of them. I remember two books in particular. Tintin - Destination Moon, and Tintin - The Shooting Star.

I don’t remember the reason why, but I didn’t have money. Perhaps I didn’t tell my parents that I needed money for that day, or perhaps they forgot to give me some. I don’t remember. But I do remember that I couldn’t buy anything. And I wanted to. And this is where Carmen entered into my memory, and changed me forever. I just didn’t realise it at the time as I was too young to understand.

I remember that that girl, Carmen, paid for those books so that I could have them. She gave me her own money so that I could buy those books. And when I remembered that again I was really shocked. I couldn’t believe I had forgotten about that for all those years. I was telling myself, “Of course! Those books! Carmen! I remember! You gave me your money for them! I bought the books with your money! How could I have forgotten that!?”. I was stunned.

Then searching in my mind, more memories surfaced of the consequences of that day, I started to connect the dots. Those books were the first books I learned to read from! I couldn’t read before I had those books. But I have a specific memory of me being at my grandparents home, with one of those books, and being able to start reading it, and telling my grandparents something similar to “Look, I can read now!”. This was the very same book that, without Carmen's kindness, would not exist in my past, including all the memories around it.

I also have a memory of my father reading The Shooting Star to me, the only memory that I have of him reading a book to me (which was another fond memory). The very same one that I bought with Carmen’s money.

Those Tintin books are also in my memories with my friend. He lived next door to me. He also wanted to read them, so he borrowed them. (he was my best friend at the time, he moved away after 1984. I haven’t seen him since 1988. I’ve never been able to find him since then).

Those books are part of my childhood. I have very fond memories of them, and it all started with her. With Carmen. That means she is a part of my childhood too, even if that sounds crazy.

I remembered a bit more about that far off day. When we returned to class, our teacher talked in front of the class to her and I. She found out that Carmen had paid for the books. I can’t remember exactly what she said, but it was something similar to “that Carmen should not have allowed me to buy the books with her money, that I should give them back to her, and she would only give them back to me when I had repaid her”. And I think, I almost remember, but not quite, that I did give the books back, or promised to. I remember Carmen was sitting at her desk on the left side of the class, by the wall, near the door, and I think I walked over to her and gave them back. (Although I can’t confirm it as the memory is too faint).

After that, I don’t remember what happened next. I don’t remember if she gave them back to me after I paid her back, or if I even paid her back, or if she just gave them back to me out of the kindness of her heart. I’ve tried searching my mind for that memory and I can’t find it. I don’t know if I even said thank you to her. But she must have given those books back to me at some point that day or the next. As I had them for years afterwards.

Part 2: For Carmen

Carmen, as my mind returned from the memory and I focused again on you in both pictures, I knew that I had just had a unique, deep and amazing experience of remembering. Something like this must be rare, and only happens perhaps once in a person's life, if at all. Right at that moment, when I focused back on you in the pictures, I knew I wanted to see you again and tell you about all of that.

Carmen, if it hadn’t been for you on that day when you helped me, things would be different for me. I would have different memories. I would be a different person in some ways.

I felt that I saw you now as I wished I had seen you. I remembered you from when I was a boy, too young to understand. Too young to appreciate your kindness. Now I was seeing you in those two pictures when I was a man. Two pictures of a smiling girl, smiling in silence. The silence that only pictures can convey, a snapshot of a time long since passed. And since that day, when I saw you again in those pictures, I’ve never been the same again.

I realized that you had vanished a long time ago, maybe during 1984 or at the end of 1984. You left the school. Your parents took you out of the school, and put you in a different place. And you continued your life there. Maybe you left South Africa, maybe you moved to a new city, or perhaps just a different school. To this day I don’t know what happened to you, or where you went. And so, back then in 1999, not long after the memory came back, a great pain started to take hold of me. I hadn’t seen you in fifteen years and I probably would never see you again. I was so sad. I was heartbroken. You were taken away. Forever.

So I vowed never to let those pictures go. I left South Africa in 2001. I took the pictures with me to my new life in another country. They are the only ones I took with me. I took them with me because you were in them. I still have them. They are the only tangible record of you, of those faraway days. I still look at them. To remind me of you. To remind me of that day back in the past, to remind me of how kind you were to me.

After that day in 1999, when I found the pictures of you I must admit that I found myself in a-lot of heartache for a long time. Because I wanted to see you again, and I couldn’t. It took a long time for that wound to heal. I hid it away. No-one knew. Even today. No-one knows. I eventually made my peace with it, slowly, over the years. And since then, life happened of course. I met my future wife. We had two children, and the memory of you receded into the background, resting silently. The pictures were still with me, unseen again, for a long time.

But unexpected things in life have a funny way of bouncing back onto a person. Eventually you returned to my mind again. This time not too long ago. Not long after my mom passed away. 26 years after I found the pictures and remembered you.

I was looking through old photos again, I had them all digitized, the same ones I saw back in 1999, the same ones with you in them. I was looking at them just days after my moms passing. I came across the two pictures that you were in, and then, you returned back into my mind. The wound had been reopened, slowly at first, but over the weeks it eventually built up into an emotional storm, with such a heartache and feelings that I’ve never experienced before! I reached the point where there were no more words to describe what I was feeling.

I don’t quite understand it. I’ve never figured out why I felt and feel like this for you. It must have been the memory of you. But that’s how I felt, that’s how I feel. And lately, every day I weep over it. Every day I think about you. Every day tears roll down.

Intense bursts of emotion that are impossible to contain. Wishing I could see you again, just one more time. It feels like an ocean of tears has flowed from my eyes. A hidden ocean. I have to hide the tears away from everyone. I’ve never talked to anyone about you. About all of this. Who would understand it? No-one would understand, no-one could.

I feel awful. I feel guilty. I have to hide the story away. I have to hide the heartache away. Away from my wife. Away from my family. Away from everyone. Even though I've done nothing wrong. I would never betray my wife, or my family. Even for this.

I’ve tried to suppress the feelings, to remove the feelings from my heart. I’ve tried to. But I can’t. They are there. Every day. I guess it will just fade off slowly (again). I guess that’s how these things work.

Yes. I know. I know what you are thinking. That I'm making it out to be more than it was, is, or could ever be. That I should get over it, let it go. That it doesn’t matter anymore. That life goes on. To that I don't have an answer. I guess I'll never know.

Carmen, I've searched for you. I’ve tried to find you. I’ve never been able to find you. I’ve never been able to say to you “Carmen, I remember you. I really remember you! You’re not just in the pictures. You’re in my mind as a memory. A special, touching memory. I remember you in a deep and special way. In a way that no-one else can remember.”

Carmen, as I think about it, I would have liked to have known you. I would have liked to have seen your presence, even from afar, seen how you grew from a girl into a woman through the years, years that are lost forever, as the time is long past for all of that. And yes, I would have liked to have loved you. But it’s too late. I admit that I would have liked it if you would have stayed. If you would only have stayed on, in primary school, and in high school, as I did. Then at least I would have more of a chance of seeing you, of finding you.

But I do not wish it on you that you had stayed. I do not wish it because I could never negate your own life story just for my wishes. You have your own life, your own love, your own experiences, as do I, that’s the way it is and the way it should be.

But I do wish I could see you again to say thank you. Thank you for your memory. Thank you for your kindness. Thank you for being there, so long ago, at the beginning. Without you being there, my life would be emptier in a way, with less meaning. I would be a different person than I am today.

You were there during some of the best years of my life. In those two years. When I had a friend next door. When my pet dog was still there. When I was a young carefree boy, still unburdened by the trials, tribulations, and worries of life. Before the loneliness set in.

I know you’re out there living your life, somewhere far away. In a place I can never reach, that I can never find. And whoever is in your life and whoever knows you, I just want to say that they are so lucky. So lucky to know you. So lucky to love you. So lucky to speak to you. So lucky to see you. So lucky to have you in their lives.

And so, with all of that, I will do the only thing I can do these days. The only thing I was ever really able to do, and that is to look at both pictures and remember, just like on that day back in 1999:

I look at the pictures, two school class photos, taken so long ago. I look at the children in each picture, some I remember, and some I don’t. They’ve all long since grown up and moved on with their lives.

Then, in those pictures, my eyes focus on a girl. A girl with a sweet smile and long beautiful hair. Still familiar to me, even after all these years. In my mind I search for a memory of that girl. And I remember her. I remember her name. Carmen. I remember a poignant and deeply touching memory of her, such a significant memory. A memory of her kindness, a memory that I’ve never experienced before or after. And then I feel the pain in my heart, because she vanished so heartbreakingly long ago. I was never able to find her. I’ll never see her again.

Carmen, I should have realized it back then. It was never about those books. It was about you. It was about you all along! You are the special memory of my childhood. The most special memory that I have.

Carmen, it has been more than four decades since those early days when you were there, more than 40 years. Almost a lifetime. I don’t remember the last time when I saw you back then. I don’t remember what your last name was, even though I’ve searched the memories in my mind countless times for it.

But your smile, the memory of you, and your kindness continue to echo across all those years into my heart. Those feelings have stayed with me since I remembered you. You’ve touched my heart in a way that no-one ever has, that no-one ever could, or ever will. You are not just a girl in those pictures from long ago. You are much more than that to me, so much more. I’ve always felt since that time I remembered you, that I was supposed to remember you, and I made a vow to never forget you. You are still there in my mind, in my memories, still there after all the years that have gone by. Still there whispering to my heart after all this time, you’re always there.

And so my hope, my wish, my prayer is that someday, somehow, we could meet again. So that I could see you, one more time. And I could show you what's in my heart, what's in my mind and in my memories, so that you will see, you will feel, and you will understand how I remember you.

I’ll never forget you for the rest of my life.

Your classmate <name withheld for privacy reasons>

Johannesburg, South Africa

Grades one and two. 1983-1984

Dedication

I dedicated some songs to you, by Peter White, one of my favorite musicians. When I listen to them and many other songs, too many to list here, I think about all that I have written above. I think about you. The songs are:

1. My Prayer

2. Life Story

3. If Only For You

4. Requiem For a Princess

5. Till I See You Again