I don’t have a lot of time to write today, so I’m going to post a short story I wrote elsewhere about an experience I had that I think about every day.
I grew up in communist Russia. During my teens, I was dating a girl who worked in a factory that made napkins. In the town that I lived in growing up, there were really only a few places the adults could work, and even fewer places for the youth to work. It was very rare in most of the country for family members to work together, but my girlfriend and her mother worked side-by-side making napkins. She and her mother were often called “the twins” since they looked so similar. I won’t lie when I say that during those years of “change” I felt somewhat attracted to both of them. I feel guilt about it to this day, but can’t logically accept responsibility for teenage fantasy.
The time I was actually able to spend with my girlfriend was very brief. We both had family responsibilities and our jobs required our attention as well. The little time we had together we did what most teenagers in love do, I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate much for you to understand we made love.
We “dated” (though the idea of dating is different in a communist society, it’s referred to as “courting”, which is just spending time together) for a few years. I came home from work one day and knew something was wrong. My aunt and uncle, who I lived with, were acting very strangely. I asked them what was wrong and they just told me to do my chores. Once my chores were done, I asked permission to go meet my girlfriend. That’s when they told me that she had been killed in a fire at the napkin plant, with her mother.
In that culture it would have been considered a sign of weakness to show emotion. I was forced to put on a happy face and continue about my routine. A little piece of me died in that fire though, the two women I was most attracted to were both killed.
Years later when I came to the United States, I tried very hard to put my past behind me. Society here encourages us to live our emotions, so it was very difficult for me to forget what had happened. Eventually I began dating again and met a special girl, who is now my wife. Even though we liked each other a lot I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was somehow “cheating” on my true loves by moving on and getting married. When I told my wife how I felt, she became very upset. I explained to her that I couldn’t control my feelings about the women I’d lost in the fire and she was lucky I told her anyway, since it’s really none of her business how I feel. Eventually we just agreed not to talk about it.
The thoughts and smells of that day haunt me still, but one event allowed me to move forward and know that the two women who I’d loved so much had forgiven me for leaving Russia, and then, and encouraged me to move on with only the fond memories of our short time together. The event I’m referring to happened at my wedding. I almost called the whole thing off because I’d been fighting with my fiance for days before when I told her that even though I loved her, I’d always love the women who died in Russia even more. We decided that since everything was paid for and the guests had already arranged to come, we’d go through with the wedding, but probably just get a divorce later that day (we ended up staying married).
At the wedding something amazing happened. As we said our vows, I heard a commotion behind me and turned to see that a small fire had occurred on one of the picnic tables. It was quickly extinguished, but after the ceremony I went over to see what had happened. A stack of napkins had been placed too close to a candle and had ignited. The entire stack of napkins had burned, something my mother in law said shouldn’t happen as most napkins are flame retardant. I remembered back to the napkin factory fire and was reminded of yet another difference between our two countries. In Russia, the napkins aren’t flame retarded like they are here. It made me sad for awhile, but then I started to think about it.
I’d kept a few love-notes that my dead girlfriend had written me while she was working. I took one of the napkins from our wedding and discovered the embossing patterns were identical. I contacted the wedding planner and asked them where they got the napkins, after a few phone calls I discovered that the napkins were purchased from a distributor in China…but they were made in the same Russian town I grew up in.
Once I found this out I broke down crying (well, I doubt I actually wept, but I was very emotional). It seemed like everything had come full circle, the harmless fire at my wedding had been a message from my girlfriend and her mother that it was OK that I put my past in the past and move forward with my life.
To this day I wish I would have ended up with my old girlfriend or her mother, but I know that they’re both watching over me and protecting me. I am sure I’ll see them again, but until then I’m going to stay focused on my time here on Earth with the wife I ended up with and make the best of it.