She was the callow Catholic school senior who cried the night her boyfriend French-kissed her, fearing she’d become pregnant. Five months later, now a bracingly pretty college freshman, she was wooed and plundered by her theatre professor. It was give and take — he gave her drugs and took her virginity. Two months later, she had an abortion. She spoke matter-of-factly about the earthquake that had reduced her to rubble, then never mentioned it again. She’d built a protective barrier around her heart.
I thought she was the most sophisticated creature on the planet. When she agreed to go out with me, I was certain she’d discover I was a rookie, and laugh me off. Instead, she laughed with me, and sat in a grocery cart while I pushed her around an empty parking lot. The lost girl had met the lost boy, and they’d breached each other’s barriers.
We didn’t know where we were going, but we were going together. We decided we’d move to England and break into theatre! But the day I got my passport, she got cold feet. So, instead we rented an apartment 6,000 miles short of England. She acquired a day job at a hospital and met a handsome, world-weary doctor. And suddenly we were done.
Five years and one condensed lifetime later, the lost boy called the lost girl. Things had changed, I told her. I’d met my Creator and fallen in love with him. She laughed and called me “simple,” then said she too had changed. She’d embraced The New Age: “I am the center of my universe!” she announced (she’d finally found a safe place). “And you are the center of your universe.”
“No thanks,” I told her. I was happy with the one God had made.
Then she then urged me to leave California because “all of the best psychics” were prophesying an imminent earthquake that would destroy everything west of the Rockies!
“I’ll be OK,” I replied.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because it’s not going to happen in my universe.”
She abruptly ended the conversation, and we never spoke again. I’ve regretted that gotcha ever since.
In 2017, I found her Facebook page. Her most recent post had been in 2013. It was a warning about an imminent earthquake. And then there was silence. Did it happen in her universe? I wondered acerbically, then checked the unworthy thought.
So I googled her — and found her obituary. One year after her final post, she’d passed away. I don’t know how. I know she’d moved east of the Rockies and was “a dedicated member of the New Age community.” The obituary also said she was kind and supportive and “lit up every room she walked into.” I believe it.
Did she find her way? What happened in the year between her final earthquake warning and her passing? I don’t know. I never knew the woman she became. But I knew and loved the lost girl she’d been. And I pray that the God of all universes reached out to her during that time and prepared her to come home…
To the safe place he’d made just for her.
I was moved by your tribute to your friend.
Tearful after reading this. There are many people who’ve passed on that I wonder and worry about. I’m glad that God is the one person who can truly look into someone’s heart and intentions.
Me too, Lesley.
was wooed and plundered by her theatre professor.
compelling imagery, tragic too
A powerful post, Mitch. Thanks for sharing. May she have found healing and wholeness in that lost/last year.
Amen.
A touching post, Mitch. I had a similar “Lost Girl” experience. She too died way too young and way too full of life unable to be reached. There is a part of us that keeps their spirits alive. When we go so will they.
Find no words of consolation.May her departed soul find solace in paradise.🙏😔
Oh what a moving, poignant post, Mitch. I am sorry she died, and I hope too that she found her safe place with God. <3
Ah, so sad but what joy that you both existed with your ups and downs and did have good times. God sees and understands. An honest heartfelt tribute.
Well written story, Mitch. And it has the elements of true non-fiction.
Art
Thank you, Art.
It seems when we put away faith in Him, something else takes its place immediately. It has a rosy glow then, but is usally just of funereal make-up and wears off. Unfortunately, most of us find it out the hard way, but the Lord’s desire for our nearness has no timeline, and, indeed, He has made the safe places.
Hello Mitch: A familiar story in some ways for me. I have attached the story that yours brings to focus for me. I pray this resonates with you. Norm
Hi Norm, thanks, but I don’t see an attachment. Am I looking in the wrong place?
Hello Mitch. I do not have your email, just the comment app from your blog. Evidently there is not an ability to send a 600 word column to you. You can go to my gatorsgracenotes.com and find the column’ never betray beauty, never betray the sword and never betray a friend.
Will do.
Touching memoir. It’s tough out there. So grateful for our savior who Kristine and I have loved since ’85.
What a tender and haunting tribute, Mitch. I am very moved by it.
This is so moving and so poignant
Thank you.
Great job on this Mitch. You take us along well on such stories. Thanks!
My privilege, Jim.
Oh, my. I would be feeling the same way you are about this girl. Thank goodness God is there, as he must have her in his care. That is comfort.
Beautiful tribute, Mitch. She would have loved it if she saw it. God bless you.
Thank you, you too.
So sad, that so many are looking all their lives for that safe place, and God has always been there with His arms open…
You’ve got a big heart, Mitch. Thank you for being there to remember the lost and forgotten.
Thanks and blessings, Abe.
Beautifully written.
Thank you, Tracy.
I am sure she meant a lot to you! I am sorry for your loss! My “lost boy” is still alive and doing well. I googled and read his articles, and I’m glad he’s doing fine!
Glad to hear that!
I have mixed emotions about your story, because I had a somewhat similar experience. In my case, I’m leaving it all in the past because it won’t do any good reliving all that again.
This is so poignant.
Thank you for sharing this, Mitch. It touches close to home for me. We are still praying for our “lost girl” and grateful that she is still in our life.
I understand, Chris.
Broke my heart. I think it was breaking yours when you told the story, too.
It was, Rebecca.
Thanks Mitch. Beautiful story beautifully told… to me it raises difficult questions to which I used to think I had answers… Now I’m content top ask the questions but leave the answers to my God.
I agree, Malcolm.
Lost love is sad, but it helps us to grow and gives us direction-who we are and who we are not. God gives us choices.
Very true, Nancy.
She may not have believed in him, but I do believe God welcomed her home. I believe we all belong to him, whether we realize it or not. Thanks for sharing this poignant story!
Hi Mitch,
Sad tale. But we all have wondered where our lost loves have gone. Yes, may they find the Lord and have hope for the future.
In Christ,
Gary
Trauma is like this I must ask what earthquakes she survived and then projected out.. trauma never leaves us and always tries to find a way to tell its story.. This moved me and I am sad she did not make it but I am sure from a spiritual perspective she lived her destiny.
I pray the same—that the God who loves her, has her, even now.
This broke my heart, Mitch. I pray that she found God …at the end. Everyone has their reality. Without going into too much detail, I had a similar experience to Dar. I found Jesus at a young age–some have tried to make me “New Age”–but at the RIGHT age, I met Jesus differently–and that way will never change at any age. God, help us all. BE OBVIOUS. Thank you for sharing your life, Mitch. That hurts.
God help us all indeed, Karla.