In the late 80’s, I was a waiter at a fancy restaurant in Lethbridge, Alberta. I was engaged to Jody and loved her very much. But I loved another woman as well, not sexually but as friends. Marianne worked at the restaurant too. One night a group of us went out dancing after our shift. And I got to dance to “The Lady In Red” with Marianne. We were quiet together, just holding each other. It was tender.
It’s been at least ten years since I’ve seen Marianne. She’s married and happy in Lethbridge. I phoned her a few months ago to tell her that I’m coming west this summer and that I’d love to see her. Answering machine. And in the weeks that stretched away … no response. So I phoned again. Answering machine. No response. And that scenario has repeated itself several times.
Do I let Marianne go or show up at her door? The Buddhist in me says to let her go. She’s on her path and it looks like it’s not going to intersect with mine again. But then there’s the part of me that wants to thank her for being kind to me all those years ago, and wants to hang out again. I don’t know what to do. I’ll be in her neighbourhood for four days. How strange it would feel to not even try.
There won’t be a resolution in my mind tonight. I’ll just let the discomfort and uncertainty sit there … all the way to Lethbridge. There’s no right answer to this. My love for Marianne is still there. Maybe her response is not important. Maybe what goes out from me is all that matters. What comes back is through the grace of God.