|
No Soda, No Porch Swing, Summer of '02
Wednesday, Apr. 02, 2003 - 2:31 PM
It's funny how your senses can remind you of things gone by. Like they're keys to memories locked deep inside your mind. Today it was nice again. It was the warmest it's been this year and depending on the report you consult, it was somewhere between 74 and 81 degrees when the thermometer maxed out today. I walked the two blocks to Barnes and Noble and got a Chocolate Brownie Frap. As I was walking the warmth of the day poured over me and a mist formed on my forehead. And I was instantly transported. Transported to a time that I never wrote about here and to a date that I can't quite remember. Memories flooded my mind. Memories that I didn't even know I had locked away. With the sweat on my brow came memories of a time before winter came and went. A time when I was giddy. A time that slipped away without me realizing that I'd have flashbacks of it. She was here with me just before leaving. For what? For a new life. For early mornings. For the morning after. How was I supposed to know that things would never be the same again? But I'm better off that I didn't because it helped me enjoy it that much more. It reminds me of my Good Charolette CD playing in a beat up Corola. An orange for dinner. A walk to the Washington Monument. A small hand in mine. The sweet smell of girl sweat. Yeah, that's right... girl sweat. And a few days later, donning my hooded Aeropostale sweatshirt, we went to New York. We spent the day looking at the Statue of Liberty, eating at John's and seeing the city from the Empire State Building. We spent the early evening saying goodbye. I spent the ride home missing her. A snapshot of that moment in time would reveal the last time I truely had my emotions spike suddenly between a high and a low. And somehow as I look back on my life I realize that even though I love winter... summer is where most of my memories happened. There's something about the windows being down at night and the gentle warm air drying the sweat from your face as you drive through back roads that makes everything in your life make perfect sense.
Speak Up
< - Latest - Ex-entries - Pete's
Mom Index - CoffeeOrder - Notes - Email - >
|
