Maybe it’s that I’m in a transitional phase in my life, but I’ve been noticing the echoes around me quite a bit recently.

No, I can’t see sound waves (though that would be pretty nifty).

I’ve been seeing the echoes of people that I have moved to the outer realms of my life. Yes, some of them are dead, but most of them have simply moved some distance away. Some have even moved to the other side of the world. And some are simply on vacation…

Yet each of the people that I once saw on a very regular basis (some were daily interactions), despite the physical distance, have left a very distinct echo in my life.

I’m often crap at recognizing the echoes on a regular basis, and some echoes I will miss for months, but each echo, when I see it, opens the wound of the distance. I pause to remember; I pause to celebrate; I occasionally pause to shed a tear.

And though these moments where I embrace the echoes cause me pain, I do not discourage them. Because these moments help me to connect again, for even the most fleeting of times, with people who have helped shape me into me. And these echoes provide a way for me to remember and in remembering express gratitude.

So if I once saw you frequently, if I once shared with you my dreams, if I will talk with you again, if you have passed beyond all means of contact, know this: I am grateful for the echo you have left because you resonated with me for a time, and, in that resonance, you helped me find my current tone.