nostalgia

I think it may be the weather.

Or the season.

But my mind keeps fluttering back to different times.  Different Me’s.

I find myself thinking about the numerous people that have crossed my path over the years.  I wonder where they are in the world and what they’ve become.

I think about the budding actor I used to share laughs with in college.  We’d run into each other at the coffee shop, share at table, and talk about nothing and everything at the same time.  I wonder if LA is still calling…

Whatever happened to the slightly odd girl I met in second grade?  It was Mrs. Watson’s class and I flipped her the bird once just because the other kids didn’t like her.  She was kind of awkward and geeky (and not at all worthy of the middle finger).

Or the boy that gave me a promise ring and offered me the world one cold, Ohio day.  It was that intense relationship that brought me to Georgia and ultimately led to me meeting my husband.  I’d like to thank that boy.

I remember one Christmas in college when I was too poor to travel home (and I just happened to work in the only store that was open that day).  I spent the night drinking coffee and playing poker with an out of work truck driver that was fighting liver cancer.  He taught me the game and gave me much needed company on a night when you want to be anything but alone.  It was snowing outside and the weather was always hard on him.  I heard once he moved to Florida.

Or the English professor I had as a Sophomore.  She had lost her husband at one point and talked of love and books in a way I’ve never experienced since.  She showered us with hope and was the only person I’ve ever seen completely relish the ‘few moments’ she had with the man of her dreams.  No regrets. No wishful thinking.  Just sheer appreciation.

Or the struggling grad students that breathe in and out to the same academic air I do – does the kindred spirit among them have a purpose that is more than just brief? Will some of these souls cross paths with me for more than a mere moment?

Why did my path cross with these people?  Why so briefly?  Why, in some cases, so intense? Why, in the midst of the chaos of celebrating the holidays with my children and family, do I hear the faint whisper of them in my ear?

Remember me.  Remember the time we tried to change the world? I can tell you a story. Table for two and the biggest carafe you’ve got!