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The Bathroom Wall

Sometimes, I wonder what in the world I am doing here.  I'm not entirely sure my purpose, my plan, or what gives my life meaning.

At times, I feel like all we do is exist on a big bathroom wall.  We carve our name into the powder coated metal that is already rusting in the corner of a forgotten gas station in the middle of nowhere on the way to who knows where, and leave our mark...a subtle note that we were somewhere, we existed, and something inside us, urged us along to be seen...right there on the bathroom wall...or on any old wall for that matter.

The more time I have spent with May, the more I realize that we all want to be seen.  We want to be seen beyond our crazy, in spite of our walls and illusions of okay.  On every visit with May over the past 20 years,  we say our goodbyes and she says, 'thank you for remembering me.'  and inside, a little voice of my own whispers, 'thank you for remembering me.'   With every piece of paper she stuffs into her heavy laden car, it's as if she has placed another carving of herself on the bathroom wall...I was here.

Last Fall, on a particularly rough weekend, Spencer and I ran away to Bannack State Park; a ghost town and it changed me in so many ways.  Who was that last person left to lock up a town and walk away?  Did they carve their name on the wall to mark their existence?

As we walked through the buildings, some visitors had left their name.  I find the names of strangers so intriguing.  I catch myself wondering what they were like, why they were there.  As I read the walls that afternoon, I came across two that I couldn't shake from my mind...'David McC' and 'Cliff McC' from Radford College.  June 2, 1978.

Image result for when my soul was in the lost and foundIt's been months now and I still think about these two men often.  Two total and complete strangers who crossed my path decades ago.  For some reason...I do this...I can't not, find out about them.  So, I did.  I've been looking for these men since that day and I found 'Cliff McC'.  I found him in the folds of Facebook.  After waffling about what to do, I sent him a picture of his name he wrote so long ago with a note that said, "I found you."

He was happy to be found and part of me wonders if he's ever been lost.



  1. I love this. And I love that Aretha Franklin quote. :)


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