I once spoke with my best friend’s mother at a choir concert when I was 12. We had just listened to Barbara Ann and then we talked about the Beatles. I didn’t know anything about the Beatles, though, because my mother was a nonconformist as a teenager and she didn’t want to listen to whatever anyone else was listening to. I can understand that; but I have a hard time believing that I would have been able to avoid loving the Beatles had I been alive then.
Their Anthology had just come out before the conversation with my friend’s mother so I did have some inteligent things to say about them. My friend wasn’t there. He was in the choir.
His mother died when we were just a few years older.
His mother died, and that is the one conversation I remember with her. We talked about a subject I knew nothing about and she came away thinking that I was a “nice boy” and a good friend to her son.
I think that was one that mattered.
In the grand scheme of things, no. There wasn’t anything special about the choir concert or about the conversation. It matters because I will never be able to ask her about it.
She was the first person I ever knew who died. It isn’t her that I miss or the one that means so much to me (clearly my friend was much more invested), but she did teach me the value of a shared moment.
We shared that one. It and so many others since have mattered.
The amazing part to me is that you never necessarily know when that shared moment will be memorable or life changing for either party until later on or sometimes you never…
Yeah… I enjoy the idea that any moment could be significant to someone,
though. Significance and value are subjective, even more so in moments
rather than things.