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.
