LOSING TOUCH

 'We are not sure of sorrow,

And joy was never sure;

To-day will die to-morrow;

Time stoops to no man's lure...'

From 'The Garden of Prosperpine', by A. C. Swinburne.

I was thinking of the whole streets of the houses of those whom I have known in this town; from those who were already really very old when I was a small child, up to the more recent death announcements, mainly for members of my parents' generation. There are roll calls of them. It is true that I have been quite far away, for decades, more than I have ever been here. 

However, friends and acquaintances, who date from the beginning of our memory, never really fade much, if at all; even though we have not seen them, or even heard of them, for years on end. Then, when one comes across them again (sometimes, but not always, through social media), there are various reactions. 

Some people behave as though we have always been in touch, or take up where we left off (and it might have been at age 10). However, quite a number are happy to reminisce at a safe distance but, even though we might now live fairly close, fight shy of actually meeting. Sometimes, I feel the same, and I have been wondering why. I have heard it said that remeeting people after a parting is redolent of the resurrection, but I feel that applies most to serendipitous encounters.

There can be a degree of reluctance to engage in a prolonged reunion, and it is not shyness. No, I think that it is because we like to keep our memories intact, and we do not want them disturbed - or even shattered - in their overall integrity, *by what we have all become*.