|Memories, like the corners of my mind. Scattered pictures, of the way we were.|
After I located the birth certificate and placed it somewhere safer, I continued to dig through the trunk that held it, along with several mementos from my life growing up. Several is an understatement. I seemed to have kept everything. Pretty sure the sales tag from my first training bra was in there. Purchased at Daytons of course. I was blown away at the things I kept coming across. The following is a short list of a few of those silly artifacts:
- If I went to school with you, you can rest assured I still have your school picture. I can't say I look at it everyday, but I definitely still have it. At least a dozen of you wrote, "Good luck with the boyz." (why the z?) on the back of your picture. Thank you for the luck. I guess you can say all that luck is finally paying off. And I have you, fellow Triton Middle School classmates, to thank for that.
- Then there were our glamour shots. How many rolls of film did we waste taking pictures of each other posing in various places? And how exciting was it to wait for one of our moms to go into Rochester so we could have the film developed?
- Oh and remember that picture that all of us theater nerds would take in the girl's locker room after our final musical performance of the year? Yep. I have copies of that picture. That's right. I said copies. Plural. It's called blackmail, ladies.
- I also kept a lot of the notes that we would pass each other in school. Those were probably the funniest things. The things we would talk about that we thought were so important. Pretty sure I was crushing on at least four guys all in the duration of one month. Oy.
- I also came across every birthday card I received the year I turned 16. The year I didn't pass my driver's test on the first try, but did score a very hot pair of Doc Marten boots, and a surprise birthday party.
- Finally I came across something I wrote back in 1999. I have always loved to write. And I have always been dramatic. Feast your eyes on this following exert from my journal:
"...I had intended to talk of a certain subject that has been heavy on my heart lately. Well actually I hadn't thought much of it till tonight when I came across a box that had not yet been opened since our move to the country nearly a year and a half ago. Yes, I moved to the country and I hate it and I mean it with all the conviction in my heart. It was never my decision to make this henious move but it happened and there's nothing I can do about it -- something I have been told time after time since that dreadful day, August 31, 1998. I wonder if my parents would have done it if they knew how much pain and anguish it would cause me. It hurts so bad. My house. My home. No one understands it but it was mine. A 15 year old memory of mine that when I moved was discontinued and I would never ever get to have it back. Tonight as I was looking for something, I came across the box as I had said. In it were a whole bunch of things from our old kitchen. Magnets, pictures, notes, the ring I was looking for. Things that at that time meant very little to me, merely little invisible parts of my life. But now by just closing my eyes I can imagine exactly where they were in our little avacado kitchen. I hated that color. It was putrid. But now I love it. Sometimes when I think about it I can still hear the swing of the porch door and feel how it felt in the summer when every step you took down toward the basement got cooler, and cooler. And how warm the sun felt coming through the big landing windows...."Don't say I didn't warn you. Very dramatic. Yeah, in case you didn't gather as much, moving out to the country was not my idea of a good time. I loathed my parents for making me move there. After I read that journal entry I started crying. Not because I still missed the old house. True, I still do at times. It was for sale recently and I tried to convince Jesse to buy it for me for my birthday. What? You never asked someone to buy you a house for your birthday? No, I cried tonight because I couldn't believe how much time has gone by. In just a blink of an eye twelve years has passed. Poof. Gone. So much has changed (my waistline). But so much has stayed the same (my affinity for dramatic rants). It's unbelievable to me to see where life has taken me. Twelve years ago I didn't want to live on that farm, or even be associated with that farm. And now, in just a little more than two months I am getting married and my husband and I will be celebrating with all our friends and family there. Oh. And that avacado green color I hated? That is one of my wedding colors.