Remember childhood, remember summer fun and back-to-school shopping, remember when the life you knew was full – your knew everything there was to know about being seven? Or 15?
Remember that anticipation?
When that next day, week or month was going to be full of unimaginable learning about life?
Sure, there would be school and classes. Mostly it was about hanging out with friends, about wishing we were in the ‘cool kids group’ even though we didn’t know how to function within that group. Even less likely we’d ever be invited to join them.
Remember when there were ‘new kids’ who’d moved to town, when new clothes, new haircuts and new school supplies were almost as interesting as new teachers and cars they drove?
Remember when ‘making ‘the team’ was impossible for nearly everyone? We tried anyway. Remember when we felt so superior? At the same time those younger kids behind us, ones entering the grade we’d just left, seemed so childish – so immature?
Did we ever, could we ever, know what would become of our lives?
Memories melded with recollections of when I had nothing and wanted nothing and yet had expectations there would be no problems, no worries, no difficulty finding my way in life, finding a job, building a future and having a happy life. How right and wrong those statements have proven to be. I remember. Loved it. Hated it. Loved it. Hated it.
Nostalgia is more fun than being nostalgic. Of course we could ‘do it all differently’ if we had it all to do over, but we don’t. We can’t. It was bad enough the first time.
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