I was at lunch yesterday with my
mother when a little old lady came
sauntering up to our table, hugged me and started talking hurriedly in the thickest
German accent I have ever heard, save that of my own
Great Grandmother, who is now dead. As
startled as I was to be
embraced by a
total stranger I did not draw back, instead I sat there, my fork
frozen midway to my mouth, with what I am sure was a
mildly terrified look on my face.
At first I was unable to understand what she was saying, what she was doing there, at
my table. The only thing I was able to
register was her
scent, which was
unnervingly familiar, although I could not place it. Finally, many minutes later, my mind allowed my
consciousness to proceed out of its
retreat to try to
grasp what was happening. She was still hugging me, never taking her arm from my shoulders, her hand always teasing the hair at the
nape of my neck. She was telling my mother about someone.
John?
Michael?
Annalise?
Maria Louise? She spoke so fast, I only understood the names at first, until she hugged me again, and in a tone I'm sure only I was able to hear, she called
me John and stroked my head.
It was about this time that I realized we were the
center of attention in a rather large restaraunt, and I could not help feel the
weight of hundreds of eyes. As
embarassed and
uncomfortable as I was, I could not imagaine what it would feel like, for the old woman or myself, if I should turn her away at this moment. Even though I had never seen her before, I knew I had to be someone
important to
her, and I couldn't just push her away. She kept repeating the same names over and over, and soon I
discerned that she was Annalise, I
reminded her of her
brother, John which reminded her of Maria Loise, Johns'
wife, and Michael was her
son, who was living with John and Maria Louise back in Germany. This poor woman was
distraught and
homesick to no end, and I happened to remind her of someone whom she loved, so I had an
obligation to let her hug me all she wanted, no matter how
awkward I felt about it.
After another
ten or
fifteen minutes worth of hugging and
storytelling she simply said she had kept us long enough, hugged me again, thanking me for letting her hug me, kissed my ear, and left.
Later, even after we left the restaraunt I could not
shake the incident from my
mind. I began thinking of possible reasons for her
appearance. She could have been a sign from
God. She could have been totally crazy and
amnesic and not really
German at all. But more than likely she was just a sweet old lady that was homesick and missed her
family. I felt weird having been a
prop family member, but then she must have felt equally as strange using me as such. She seemed happier when she left us, so it couldn't have been anything bad.
Now almost twenty-four hours later, I still can't come up with the proper
adjective for the feeling I still can't shake. All I know for sure is that strange things happen for strange reasons, and while the reasons may not always make themselves known to me, they do always exist.