I usually suffer from CRS. I blame my kids. Better them than getting older.
But, certain things can trigger memories for me.
So can being in the same place where things happened.
I feel like I’m being bombarded by memories this week.
Even though Hubs and I lived down here together for about 5 years, we were a few towns over.
But, I did live here before.
I moved here the day after I turned 22 to start teaching. After only seeing the area for a few hours.
Yesterday, I drove past the cute little place where I used to live alone(ok, semi-alone, but I’ll get to that…maybe).
Suddenly, I remembered my attempt to rollerblade down my street that went horribly wrong when a rock got stuck in between the wheels and I busted up my knees and palms. If you had asked me before yesterday, I would have told you I’d never even owned rollerblades.
Another memory: opening up the door to find a bouquet of roses that were the most beautiful shade of pink I’d ever seen.
The phone ringing late at night and having it be a crazed cheerleading mom wanting to know why her daughter was placed where she was in the newest dance.
Another late night phone call. This one from somewhere in Ireland, from my boyfriend who was on his way to Greece and wanted to tell me that he loved me.
It’s so odd when I think back at all that happened so long ago.
It’s like it happened to someone else.
Ten years can seem like no time at all and like a whole lifetime ago at the same time.