The Pool of Not-Knowing

Some mornings, like this one for instance, even though I see the bright sun already at work warming the South, I take a dive anyway into the sometimes dark pool of not knowing. As I swim or simply tread water I wonder where are the classmates, old loves and friends that vowed we'd always stay in touch. I wonder if they are doing well or poorly, alive, dead, married, divorced, with or without children.

I do not know where Robin is and if she ever returned to Jamaica after our journey there together a million years ago. I do not know where Marty, my assistant manager and young sweetheart is and what she loves doing today. I do not know where all those students that I taught over the last 30 years finally landed. Speaking of landing, I wonder if Laurel in The Flying Boy (that is not her real name) ever forgave me for flying I did at her expense.

The pool of not knowing is deep, sometimes cold, and as murky as my old memory. Was it Marty who went to Jamaica and Robin who was my assistant manager? Okay. My memory isn't quite that bad.

This little blurb is a shout out to anyone who has dove into this same pool and wondered, "Where did old John Lee go after leaving Florence, Tuscaloosa, Austin and other locals?"

Question: When you dive into the pool who do you wonder about?