Happy? Birthday
Looks Like Thanksgiving

Auld Lang Syne

Periodically, I try to get rid of stuff.  Last week, I decided to throw away my DayRunner six-ring calendar.   It’s been gathering dust ever since I got my Blackberry five years ago.

Tucked into a pocket of the calendar was a small tattered green address book, and I couldn’t resist a look at it before tossing. 

First there was Adele, my staff assistant thirty years ago.  I have no idea where she is now, but once she came to our house for a short visit when she was in town for Thanksgiving. We left Peter and the kids watching a Boston College Football game in the den to chat in the living room.  A minute later, Doug Flutie threw his famous Hail Mary pass, and we missed it.

Then there was the number for Becket—the summer camp that the kids attended for so long.  I doubt that we called very often, but the number was always with me.

Europeds—the company we took our first bike trip with in 1985-- brought back memories of more than twenty years of bike vacations. 

Muriel—almost like a sister, but not well for years, and now passed away. 

Sue, a close colleague.  She died six years ago and I still miss her every day.

I always keep addresses in pencil because people move around a lot.  But for a moment, time was frozen in place in my tattered green address book.



Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.

The comments to this entry are closed.