Thursday, May 12, 2005

It's Already Thursday.

This week has passed by in a foggy blur and I see the weekend hoovering right over the horizon. It started out with disappointment but a little hope and moved on to resignation and a deep sadness mixed with anger which are the only emotions a thief can leave you with. All I wanted to do was replace a 38 yr old couch and get a coffee table with rounded edges cause those sharp corners aren't good with a new baby coming who'll be learning to toddle around it.

And I worked for that money, dammit.

There was a nice little surprise in the guise of a phone call on Tuesday evening. When I put the phone to my ear I heard this excited voice say, "I'm looking for Brenda who was born in '54 or '55 and went to school at Moro, this is Becky Reese." You could have knocked me over with a concrete feather as that voice from the past chattered in my ear. Although much more mature, it had been fully 37 years since I'd last heard Becky's voice and there she was on the line telling me that she was trying to gather our old school mates together for a homecoming in early October.

Becky is a special person in that she's never mentally aged much beyond the age that we were back then so that made this call even more exciting for me since she was able to ask the right people the right questions to find me. When she'd pause in her giggles to be able to talk, she told me, with her amazing memory, where different ones were that we'd been in school with more than a decade plus quarter century ago in that little elementary school in that tiny little rural town. I think she must have remembered that crush I had on Stanley Baker way back when because she told me at least 3 times that he lived in Texas now.

Stephanie lives in Wynne.

Paula, who's gone through more husbands than anyone can count, is living back in Moro and her husband is a Sunday School teacher.

Leonard has the parts place/service station in town (the only one).

Naomi lives in Marianna.

And the list went on. Very few of them ventured very far from home, or if they did, they returned to what was familiar after awhile. At least 2 of our classmates have died and I mentioned to her the old class photo taken in 7th grade where those two were sitting one in front of the other when the photo was made. I hope to someday have another copy of that photo since mine was lost.

So, in the fall, I'll be taking the photo album of my kids and their babies to the little town where I lived and went to school from the 1st through 7th grades so I can share what's been going on in my life over these many years. It's not far in miles but it's quite a distance in memories.

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