“Do you remember Mr. Rosales?” she abruptly asked.

“Hmmm, let me think,” I replied back.

“He’s the one who told us about this thing we are doing right now. You know; the reminiscing thing?” she blurted out before I could dig his name under the stack of craps inside my head.

“Oh yes,” I said in agreement. “He said something about that point in our lives when we sometimes reminisce, either because we have nothing to do or simply does not want to do anything else at all. And he also said that it is always a good thing to at least remember something good to think about; something good to carry around in our heads. Ok, maybe not exactly in those words but that’s the best I could come up.”

And then I remember our high school instructor whose ability to remember names and faces is exceptional. I mean he can remember the names of every student in his class on the very first day. Not only that, he also claims that he remembers every little details of his every experiences from childhood to adulthood to fatherhood in crystal clarity. He also told us once to do the same, to try to remember all the people that had been a part of our lives or every experience we had, no matter how insignificant they may seem. Whether it is good, bad, happy or even sad, treasure them all just the same. He said we’ll going to need these things someday – when we’re alone, when we sees our old friends again, when we tell stories to our children or grandchildren. And when we do, we’ll be sorry when there’s nothing we can share.

We all nodded as if we understand every word he said. We all laughed when he proceeded to describe his own toe-curling experience of a rollercoaster ride and how he soiled his pants in the process. That was funny. He said that every time he tells that story to his children, they just love it. And he can’t wait till he has grandchildren to tell the same story all over again.

But being the stubborn kids that we were, we never paid enough attention. We have this mentality that after high school, we’ll more likely to lose touch with most of our friends. We’ll end up going to different universities at different places. We’ll soon meet new people and make new friends and will eventually forget the old ones, except maybe those happen to live in the same neighborhood. We said we’ll always have all-new-experience in an all-new-place and will eventually have an all-new-friend. And memories will just come and go.

But now that I was sitting across someone whom I never thought I could ever see again, talking to her about the past, those silly things we did; the fun, the sadness, the embarrassment, and everything that we could recollect; it really felt great. After so many years, I finally understand what Mr. Rosales meant. Remembering anyone or anything along life’s journey is very important. You’ll never know when you’ll need them. He’s right, reminiscing is fun! It is not just one of the most popular hobbies of lazy people as I used to believe or a thing we do at the back of his class when we are bored from his teaching. Yes, memories will come and go but the one that really matters will always be remembered.

“So, how is he doing?” I asked. “Got any news about him?”

“Not a bit, nothing!” was her reply.

I said, “Well, he’s probably sitting now in his rocking chair surrounded by his grandchildren, telling them over and over again about his toe-curling rollercoaster ride or maybe how good an athlete he had been or could have been. Or he’s probably sitting by the bed with an old lady, whose name he can still remember but maybe doesn’t know what’s she’s doing there. Or he’s probably with his other old friends if they’re still alive, telling them how many women he had slept with before and after he married that old lady sitting with him by the bed.”

We bid goodbye and both promised that we’ll meet again sometime. And as I watch her walk away, I can’t help to think how time fly so fast and how it changes everything. The last time I saw her, she’s just a very young lady whose eyes were filled with hopes and dreams. Now, she’s a mother of two and had a husband whose present address she can’t even tell. Apparently, he moved to a new house but never told her where it is.

And me? Well, in a way I envied Mr. Rosales. Until now, I still never had the balls to experience that toe-curling rollercoaster ride that he had during his prime. And here I am already in the stage of my life when doing it is not fascinating anymore. Although orgasm usually does the trick for me at this point, I am pretty sure that in the next few years, the only toe-curling experience I will ever have is while I am sitting on the toilet bowl having the worst case of constipation. And I don’t think my grandchildren would like to hear that story in the future; when their grandpa is supposed to be telling them how great his life has been.

But thanks to that bastard Mr. Rosales; he was right all along. I’ve got some good stories to tell. And as my friend slowly disappears from my sight, my mind once again raced to the time when we were still in high school. In a noisy corridor with a bunch of kids laughing at the sight of a limping Mr. Rosales - the man with one leg shorter than the other but whose wisdom we’ll never forget.