The other day, I was thinking about the first week that I worked full time after becoming a parent.  I remember how my nerves were on edge as I struggled with the reality that the kids would be coming home from school to someone who was not me.  I recall how exhausted I felt standing on the sidelines at their soccer games that Saturday. 

I also recall what I wore that fall 1980 day. 

I still remember what I wore the day I met Peter in 1965 (and what he wore!) and what I wore to a concert that I knew he was attending shortly thereafter in the hope that he would invite me for a beer afterwards (he did).  I remember what I wore on our first real date. I could also describe the suit I wore in 1980 when I was interviewed for the job I now have.

I do not, however, remember what I wore on Monday.