My dogs always had more than one name. Sam was of course Sam, Samantha when she was entering a zone of rule breaking, Pooh Bear, Pooh, Bear, Babe- she always knew who was I talking to. Dr. Smith had a nickname for her as well- no one told me about it until after Sam died: “The Great Spirit”- she certainly was and had that.
But in my house she had many a name, one of which I said - well was overheard saying as I talked to Randy right after the Hurricane Floyd traffic jam- “inside bear“ I said as a local GSD mix with canine socialization issues was coming up the walkway.
“Bear… “ Randy said with a hushed tone and I could feel something prickling over the phone line from him “that’ s my dog’s name… my dog‘s name is Bear too”
“We both call our dogs Bear,” Randy said at which I began to prattle “Her name’s Sam - pooh bear’s just a nick name - you know Winnie the Pooh, sometimes she‘s pooh, sometimes she‘s bear- sometimes she‘s both” .
But to Randy, at the time, “bear” held meaning- I could feel Meant 2 B pulsating from him. But to me I didn’t see or feel that way about “(B/b)ear” or anything else where he was concerned, never had. And there were these current and past aspects of me that he “knew” in advance. He “knew” I’d make my own candles, he submitted a few of those over the weeks and then months that followed. For him and maybe for the audience of me -a connection between us. And that’s not to say there wasn’t and isn’t one- just that we didn’t read that connective tissue the same way.
Some of the old dynamics came quickly back into play- not just with him but definitely with me as well.
I requested an old photo of myself - me in the best shape of my life wearing a u-Tarzan-me-Jane bikini against the foreground of his name written in sand. Unfortunately his wife, recently 2 b x-wife had found where he’d been keeping it all those years- in his wallet, total betrayal.
She had torn that picture to pieces, couldn’t say that I blamed her. Would have been a nice photo to have when I was eighty though- sadly the only photo I have of me in that bikini was one my father took on the sly. Which does reflect the overall truth better but I don’t have to like it.
“Bear” and how Randy’s story of he and I was understood from his perspective. To him that coincidence which I don’t and didn’t think then as even qualifying as one- but in his world- at least at that moment- bear was the tone and tenor- that we both called our dogs bear was indicative of shall we say a “cosmic comm link“. Actually- so I’VE said, there is no we.
Maybe that is in fact the key to two people who are actually meant to be - when their inner narratives are least the same shape or at least have enough in common with each other’s that they‘re either on the same page or can at the very least see, the others margins.
I am very clear on all the coincidences simply being an aspect of a story- that’s mine and mine alone, my narrative. And I am very clear on coincidences regarding the other condiment being my thing with the condiment and reflective of no one and nothing else but me, myself and I.
About Me
- amcsquared
- In 2001 I sustained a brain injury which altered me as a person, my neurology and my abilities. Skills I had never thought of as skills disappeared entirely. One of those lost skills was the capacity to write and organize information. For over ten years I have been working diligently on regaining what I have lost while living in a state where, to quote a staff member at MUSC: "some people should be left by the side of the road to die". My name is Maren Alford and to borrow a line from Toni Morrison: I am not dead. To quote Patton: I shall return. I will make as close to full recovery as is humanly possible, or impossible for that matter.