Call From An Unknown Number
Caller ID has taken surprise away from us for the most part. Usually, when people see an unknown number, they don’t even answer the phone and wait for someone to leave a message. I often do that myself. This call was different though. I saw the California area code and a small part of me quickly wondered if it could be about a friend who is in the late stage of life. At just that moment I thought, “Oh my God, what if he died?” It was an ominous fleeting thought when I saw the number and I dismissed it as quickly as it came and put it out of my mind. More likely, it was someone in the tech startup world calling about consulting. Anyway, just answer it! “Hello?” A charismatic voice asked me if he had reached the right number. Okay, I thought, ugh… maybe it’s a sales call. I never expected what came next.
“Maybe you don’t remember me,” he said. Then, after stumbling through a clearly rehearsed but nervously delivered opener it’s revealed. It’s a guy I dated over two decades ago. “I must be the last person you expected to hear from.” It took me a minute to orient myself to the memory, to that time in my life and ah… now I remember the distinctive voice that had charmed me so many years ago. But, “Yes.”
Technology has a knack of resurrecting people from relationships past like the Spirit of Christmas Past in Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. He had been able to locate me through a friend of friend on Facebook. A little more Googling, finding my number and suddenly Marley’s Ghost was at work in our lives.
He went on to explain and clearly this wasn’t one those situations where an ex-boyfriend is trying to come back and “visit the well” for another chance at a date. We certainly weren’t directly connected on social media and hadn’t kept up with each other’s lives in such a way that it left open a back burner opportunity to get closer at this stage. I mean, twenty years is a long time! We had only dated for months and as our conversation went on there were things we remembered differently. But, as things unfolded, a reconciliation of events and our experience together began to come about and take clearer form.
What had him calling? He sounded contrite. He explained how the recent events of the news had got him thinking. The #metoo movement, the Kavanaugh hearings and society’s examination of how women are being treated all had him pondering about everything that had happened and how he had been in his relationships with women. He thought of me and he called because he felt he owed me an apology. Okay — however, I’m not sure just for what?
We continue to talk and as we do, more memories come to the surface about what life was like back then. We were just emerging into adulthood and it’s that time in your life where you’re caught somewhere in the mix of freedom and responsibility. It’s reflected in the trial and error of your decisions as you keep trying your best to move forward and decide who you want to be.
We met through our mutual group of friends. But unlike Kavanaugh, and the group of friends that were making headlines, our group didn’t go to Yale. We and our friends at the time, were just getting by doing our best to hustle and earn enough money to pay the bills, and if we were lucky, go to community college. One of the things he and I had in common was that we had both moved from place to place throughout our lives like gypsies with no firm roots that would ground our expectations or form a stable foundation to build on. During that time, many of our nights were spent with those friends, some who were immigrants and in the same boat as we were. We were all trying to discover and make a new way in life. We mostly gathered at a local Irish pub known for its support of the right wing Irish Republic, Sinn Féin. The two of us went there, not because we were Irish or political — our friends were there and the drinks were honest and the music was good. The pub also bent the rules on last call and we bent the rules with them. I can’t think of one of us in our circle of friends that didn’t at times stay out until morning, drink too much on occasion or play around with each other experimenting with our sexual ethics and where our morals would stand. We were young and didn’t know who we would become or just how we would get there.
He was concerned that maybe he did something to hurt me or had caused pain. I was at a loss. Was there something that left a scar? Had he ever crossed lines and taken things too far? He was never aggressive and I never remember him violating my boundaries of what would be acceptable. I assured him that any decisions we made, we made together. I drank, but don’t recall passing out. Was there something I didn’t remember?
No. It was what he remembered. I guess there was a part of him that really was an unknown caller because unbeknownst to me, he confessed that he had been indiscreet, talking with bravado and boasting to one of his male friends about me. He found out later that his friend hadn’t been discreet either and wild rumors emerged. He assumed it had gotten back to me and I was offended or hurt by his actions. I hadn’t heard anything and I never knew. It was something though, that left a stain in his memory and so this unfinished business about what happened was on his mind. What must I think about him now? It was remarkable to me that he had carried something I had never even known about all these years with him. He felt guilty and cheap about what had happened and for what he had done trying to be, “one of the boys.” And so, he apologized to me. Him living with the memory had certainly brought him a greater cost and burden than it ever did me. I could afford to be gracious and so I accepted his apology and thanked him for his honesty.
Rest assured, I let him know I was okay. I had managed to work my way through college and graduate school and become a psychotherapist. I had even excelled at it, working hard and beating my expectations. I had been able to make some dreams come true, more than I had imagined I could at the time we knew each other. After sharing some other life events, he shared too and I was curious. How had things been for him?
When I met him, he still lived with his parents. Not because of a failure to thrive or because he was a freeloader. He was managing a retail store and supporting them during a time of bad financial circumstances. As an only child he felt trapped being the sole one to help and while he loved them, he longed for his independence and the situation had gone on far too long. “Remember how I used to get stomach pains about paying the bills?” I did. He told me he woke up one night, again from the pains, and it was one night too many. He did what he could to help them, but decided it was time, and packed up and drove far away. He pursued his own dreams of acting and had ended up on the other side of the camera. He had a successful series under his belt now and was just completing a documentary. So, he had managed to make some dreams come true too. We shared some more life events as well and we talked about how we had grown. As things were, it hadn’t turned out too bad for a couple of people who didn’t always act their best and used poor judgement at times as they struggled into adulthood.
He reminded me of the last time we said goodbye as we stood looking into each others eyes. How both of us said, “no regrets.” He mentioned it in such a way now as if he were asking a question. Was it true? Should we have any? From talking, it was clear that on the roads of each of our lives journeys we had learned a few things along the way. Not despite of anything that happened between us but, in part, because of it. Our relationship was just a part of the journey, a time we spent along the way.
One of the privileges of being a therapist is that people share their lives stories and journeys with you. Once you have heard so many, it is clear that in all relationships at some point, we make mistakes. Hopefully, you take what can from those experiences and learn from them and try to do better the next shot you get with “no regrets.” I was glad he had taken the time to find me and had the courage to reach out to talk to me. We were able to meet each other where we are in the here and now and I was able to lighten the burden of guilt that he felt about the past. We used the time we had as an opportunity, and so as Dickens’ said, ‘No space of regret can make amends for one life’s opportunity misused.” And so we made amends, said goodbye and wished each other the best.
It had been a modern day visit from Marley’s ghost — an opportunity for some reflection and redemption much like that of Ebenezer Scrooge. We got to visit the past, talk about where we were in the present and think about how the future is a changing thing.
After some reflection, it didn’t surprise me as much that he called. The current stories that dominate media about sexual assault, hate crimes, inequality and human rights had been weighing on me as well. The constant cries of “fake news” and the vulnerability of freedom of speech have seemed to created a battle as to just who will get tell the story of history. All of this is anxiety producing and not one of my friends or clients has failed to bring something up during a conversation. With all of this evidence, I can safely say the all of the ingredients for mass cultural change are in the air. We are all thinking about these changes.
And so with the holiday season approaching, it is kismet. There seems no better time to share this story than now. Perhaps we can all honor this changing time in our own personal way and collectively conjure up Marley’s ghost to help. After all, tomorrow is another day where we have the opportunity to try our best to move forward and life a live a life with no regrets. And so with that…God bless us, every one!
