At the end of Fellini's film 81/2, one of my favorite movies, there's a wonderful scene where everyone the director has ever known line up together, hold hands, and dance around him, including his childhood self.
In the wake of Tom's death on Saturday, I was thinking about all the people I've known, many of whom are dead, others whose fates I do not know. They may very well BE dead, or they may turn up unaccountably years later. That has indeed happened before.
For example, years ago, in synagogue, when Jeremy was young and in religious school for a few years, I was talking to another mom who was from Philadelphia and had a son the same age as mine. I asked her where in Phila. she was from. Same area as I am from. What high school she went to. Same one. When she graduated. Same year. But I didn't remember her AT ALL. She told me then that she remembered ME. That startled me, all right.
It is hard to know how many lives I have touched and not even realize it. This makes life interesting.