Memory Lane

Sudden Memories.  It's funny how the smallest thing can set your mind into a 30-second memory rerun.  Maybe it's a song you just heard, something someone just said or even a stupid photo on pinterest.  I had a few memories pop up this week.

I recently had a conversation with my mom about my first car.  It was a 1981 Buick. A brown beast that ran on diesel gas and had a clock with a second hand.  It was plush though, the most comfortable car I've owned.  Our car conversation made me think of my high school best friends, Melissa and Jackie.  Since there was three of us we could never decide who would sit in the back.  (Yes, we were that tight that we did not want to be separated.)  So even though we all had our licenses we typically would ride in my car because we could fit three in the front seat.  Not only was there enough room and it was comfortable but there was three seat belts too.  I miss that car.  I miss our "notebook" we shared... basically one ongoing note to one another.  I miss Skittles.

Earlier in the week I saw a photo of a swing by water.  Just for a moment I went back to that one crazy day I had in high school where I decided to skip my stupid math class to go to the river with my friends. The guys had found a rope swing.  We spent just a quick hour or so swinging away, jumping into the river.  Of course we knew we were having fun... I mean we were skipping out on algebra.  I never knew how fond of a memory that day would end up being though.  I think about that rope swing often.

I can't think of Christy's last name.  ....Wait... Yoder!  It literally just came to me.  She popped into my head the other day because I saw a huge pile of undies.  I was a Freshman on the swim team.  Lucky for me I had been swimming since I was six so I was good and I was automatically on Varsity.  I had a Varsity locker with a Freshman sense of organization and cleanliness....or maybe laziness.  For morning practice I would show up in my sweats, change into my suit and leave the pair of underwear I was wearing on the top shelf.  I brought a clean pair of underwear to change into after swim practice.  Day after day this happened.  I never brought my "top-shelf" underwear home with me.  Eventually I had quite the stock of undies.  My dear friend Christy thought it would be hilarious to throw all my underwear out by the entry way into the school.  The entrance where just about EVERYONE came into the school building.  Christy and I were actually good friends, this was not some sort of Freshman initiation.  Of course I was embarrassed but the two of us died laughing, tears rolling down our eyes, as I walked around picking up every last pair of underwear.  By the time I was a Sophomore I had a different plan and my underwear came home with me every night.  

Today one of my girls came out of the locker room gushing about her first kiss.  I know what your thinking, I'm going to tell you about my first kiss.  Nah- my first kiss was in Kindergarten while I was playing "Cops and Robbers" with Brian.  (Okay, so I told you a little bit about my first kiss.)  I didn't think of my first kiss, or my 10th kiss or even my first kiss as a high school student.  No, for some reason the memory that rushed into my head was my first kiss with Tracy, my high school boyfriend from Junior year. It must have been the weather that triggered this memory.  I remember it had to be at least January in Indiana.  Or at least cold enough where there was snow on the ground.  We were at some sort of park... with a hill.  (Not a big hill, this is Indiana.)  We we're flirting, naturally.  And I just remember being pressed up against his car... his car that literally looked like a yellow egg.  We kissed.  It was a good kiss.

I guess all my memories right now are from High School.  It doesn't surprise me, I spend my afternoons with high school kids.  Sometimes I'm taken back at the thought that I'm...I'm like an adult now.  I am in charge of 17 kids in two swim lanes.  I tell them how to swim and that they shouldn't eat Chicken McNuggets before practice.  I get texts that explain they can't make it to practice because they went to Urgent Care for a knee problem.  I'm an adult.  I own a business.  People actually pay me money to document one of their biggest days of their life.  I'm an adult.  When did that happen?

Even though I'm an adult (which I still have to remind myself that I'm an adult even at a ripe age of 29) I will always have my memories.  They keep me young at heart.  Seriously, all I want to do is find that rope swing and have another jump.


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

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