Things Remembered

Sometimes opening a box can take you back to the people and places of long ago memories.  And before you know it, you're remembering...

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Sometimes I remember Catholic school copybooks and public school notebooks.   

Sometimes I remember the house with the ugly green door and first beers and jumping out of a window just to walk back in the front door for kicks.

Sometimes I remember the summer of Sun-In and the autumn of burnt orange hair.

Sometimes I remember baseball games and an Action News interview that went horribly awry.

Sometimes I remember midnight runs and Chinese fire drills and ice cream at Friendly’s.

Sometimes I remember gifts from the heart.

Sometimes I remember games of Punch Buggy that hurt like hell.

Sometimes I remember the ridiculousness of SoCo.  And now when I say I live in HoCo, I cringe a little. 

Sometimes I remember the morning I found out why it was so funny that I went to a school called Beaver.

Sometimes I remember walking down the boardwalk talking with really bad British accents.

Sometimes I remember games of “would you still be my friend if I…walked like this, talked like this, looked like this?” 

Sometimes I remember Mickey and Donald and Goofy too. 

Sometimes I remember two girls; one brash and bold and the Great; the other quiet and timid, with none of the self-assurance then to proclaim herself anything near great.

Sometimes I remember.  And I wonder…

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Sometimes you have to close the box and put away the memories.