The Girl with the White Parasol

There's a famous quote from the classic film Citizen Kane by Mr. Bernstein:

"A fellow will remember a lot of things you wouldn't think he'd remember.  You take me.  One day, back in 1896, I was crossing over to Jersey on the ferry, and as we pulled out, there was another ferry pulling in, and on it there was a girl waiting to get off.  A white dress she had on.  She was carrying a white parasol.  I only saw her for one second.  She didn't see me at all, but I'll be a month hasn't gone by since that I haven't thought of that girl."

I only recently saw this film.  It has been hailed as a masterpiece, perhaps the greatest film ever made. I'll leave that discussion for the film students and critics.  It was a great film, and I appreciated the story and filmmaking technique.  That line, however, struck me.  After the film was over, I got to thinking - what is my "girl in the white parasol" moment?  A snapshot of something that I saw, or something that happened that turned out to have no meaning in my life, yet I'll never forget it.

It doesn't have to be a snapshot, though, or a brief encounter.  "The Girl in the White Parasol" can be the sum of moments, or an opportunity not taken, or a period of time that you never will forget.

That time was spring through fall 1984.  I met a girl in class, and, well, I was rude and a king-size jerk.  There was maybe some chemistry there, or from what I could tell as a twenty-year-old boy. But I blew it.  I saw things that were not there, perceived slights or dismissals that were nothing of the sort.  I gave up.  I withdrew. I tossed aside what was very possibly the best thing that happened to me in my young life.  The years passed.  In my "Girl in a White Parasol" moment, I would think of her from time to time.

My mother lives in an assisted living facility.  After a few years of living there, she, my brother and I decided to sell the house I grew up in.  While getting it ready for sale, I went through many notebooks, papers, and other things from my high school and senior years.  In a manila envelope, in a safe place, I found the letters that girl from 1984 wrote me that summer.  We exchanged letters while we were apart.  As I read them, I so wanted to go back in time and shake the 20-year-old me until my teeth rattled.  She was such a beautiful and sweet person, and I was so clueless.

I'm sure everyone has moments like these, moments they wished they could go back and do things right.  This, for me, is more than that.  I want so much to reach out to her, to say how sorry I was, and to hope she was blessed with all the happiness and warmth she deserves.  As for me, there will always be that moment, that chance in time lost forever.