On Wishing Old Strangers Well

After I got a concussion last month, I began having super vivid dreams which is, apparently, a common response. Not nightmares or anything traumatic, just highly detailed dreams where I felt like I was living in and creating whole worlds. Dreams that I dreaded waking up from because I had to know how the story ended.

Of course, like most dreams, they mostly faded by lunchtime, but one dream, nearly a month ago, included someone I went to elementary school with and someone who I probably haven’t spoken to since—we’re talking at least two decades. As I turned off my blaring alarm, I could feel my mind trying to sort through my tired brain and remember this person’s last name because—while we were friends in elementary school—it wasn’t someone I had stayed in touch with.

Yet as I went through my morning, I kept thinking about this person and all I could think was that I sincerely wished and hoped they were doing well. I have no idea where they live or how they spend their days. But my memory from elementary school is that they were good and they were kind and that we were friends. And so I found myself wishing them well. 

And imagine that. Imagine being 20+ years removed from a person and hoping that they’re having a good day. This whole idea of there always being people out there who are rooting for you and cheering you on is real. 

Someone, somewhere has some positive memory and when they hear your name or when you appear in a dream they wake up and smile. And if they’re like me, they may even take a moment to wonder… and then they may wish you well. 

May we all be so lucky to be anonymously wished for. And may we remember to wish so for others.