As the reception tent was being dismantled, Gracie the Golden pup was nosing her way into each person’s attention. Suddenly, from a car that just pulled behind the tent transport truck came a lady I didn’t recognize. As she approached, having maneuvered around the ever more excited pup, she looked at me and called my name from years ago. “Do you know who I am?” she asked. I looked deep into her eyes and was at a loss for recognition. She said her name and a flood of memories washed over me. She and I had gone to school together from grades one through twelve. I had directed her wedding our senior year in high school. She remarked at how different I looked and that she hardly recognized me upon her arrival that day. We reminded each other that fifty years of living had rendered us each with the “mature” looks we now express. We briefly reminisced and shared snippets of life currently before she parted for a part time care taking responsibility she has recently assumed. Commitment to stay in touch since we now live two miles apart was sealed with a hug. The journey to the place of childhood memories and experiences that day brought me to the realization that the move back to my childhood abode is not a journey back to my childhood. Today’s experiences are different from those gone before, but are made richer by the threads of memories that weave the fabric of now. Although PD is currently a recognizable chord, it only has a small role in the sum of life’s equation. Gratitude remains the multiplier that factors into the total of today’s rendering.
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