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2006-07-26
lunch table
When I was in 7th grade, I sat at a lunch table down at the far end of the cafeteria. Large windows looked out onto a small patch of grass where the side yard of the school met a peaceful, tree-lined street just beyond the grounds.
There were only a few other kids who made the trek down to that particular spot, and for the most part, we left each other alone with several empty chairs acting as an invisible safety barrier between ourselves. Maybe the authorities sat us alphabetically at the start of the year, and we were the few who stuck to the rules after the first few weeks of school, or maybe we enjoyed the safety of being outside the noisy mix of students towards the front and center of the cafeteria. My memories flicker from one fact to the other, never settling on one idea as the actual truth. Either way, I was quite content to sit in this out-of-the-way spot, an oasis of calm in the middle of the school day.
For a while, Diane sat almost directly across from me. I could remember her last name if I had the energy to search out the junior high face book, but I wouldn't print it here anyway.
She was impossibly pretty that year with shampoo commercial hair and contemporary, but safe outfits that any mother would be proud to have her daughter wear. Miles out of my league.
She sat there without stigma. One of the good girls whose looks, intelligence and charm gave her a free pass into the A crowd whenever she wanted. That being said, for a while she chose to remain diagonally across from me at the lunch table and would sometimes make general comments in my direction.
Sometimes we'd have an actual conversation about classes, but mostly we were silent, reading whatever book we had with us. The thing I remember most clearly was her quizzing me any time she caught me in a deep daydream as I stared at the world outside the window. I never knew quite what to tell her. How to explain that I dreamt about a time after the awful, awkward years I seemed stuck in, when everything would be better than I ever could imagine?
Unfathomable as that future was, I always had faith that everything would get better someday...if only I could continue trudging through the time I faced at the moment.
So here I am, years later, thanking her for being kind to me during my time inside that brick building and letting her know that I suddenly realized I was dreaming about today.Labels: memory lane
* posted by me at 8:59 PM
(0) comments
2006-07-17
blogger's block
It's been a while since I posted. Just not feeling much like writing lately...or more to the point writing here.
Sometimes I need to live with my thoughts first before sending them out into the world to live on their own. Poor little thoughts without me to defend them. Whatever will they do when someone tries to twist them?
Besides the little thoughts I'm busy bringing up in my head, not much else is happening. I did volunteer at the AIDS walk yesterday and turned into a redneck. (Literally, I forgot to put sunblock on my neck...ouch.) Had more fun than I expected, and met some new people from work who gave me some new thoughts to bring up.
I think I'll name them George.Labels: blogging
* posted by me at 9:37 PM
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2006-07-05
fading away
Well, vacation's officially over as I'm back at work as of today. Truth is, I need another one where I just lie on a beach and sip tropical cocktails. No offense to those I saw towards the tale end of last week, but I seem to have returned a bit frazzled. Work took a turn for the better in my mind and mental attitude about where I'm at, but now family weighs heavy.
There's various reasons for this, but mostly it's my Gram. I normally make a point of seeing her towards the beginning of a trip and then again at the family dinner that always happens during the last night, but this time was a bit different. Her short term memory is truly going now. So hard to see that happening to someone whose sharp mind and quick wit I've envied and tried to emulate from an early age onward. (and yes, I'll admit it's scary to me as well knowing that someday that could be me)
G and I spent some extra time with her towards the end of the week. Taking the grand tour of her apartment complex and going through old photo albums. She could remember exactly where my great-grandfather had his apartment and particular details about something that happened back in 52, but not that we'd already been in a certain part of the building or that we'd looked at that album page just minutes ago.
It seemed such a severe difference from the last time I'd seen her. She'd been a bit fuzzy, but no more than myself on a bad day. There were several phone conversations in between, but I own now that I was happily ignoring the various signs that would come through the wires.
I remember many years ago, while I was still in college, sitting quietly and being able to accept it when my Aunt Ruth G. took to calling me by my father's name and asking me questions about his life away in the service. Sure, I'd often drive home a bit freaked out, but I looked at it as a chance to learn more about my Dad. Thing is that Ruthy was always a little fuzzy to me. I didn't get the chance to know her as an adult in the way that I did with my Gram.
I'm glad I did, and I'll be happy to sit and have her tell me three...or twelve times about the same photograph as long as there's time left.
Whew. Hadn't meant this entry to be about Gram originally. I thought I was going to have a venting session about something rather different, but it's where my fingers took me tonight and I thank them for that. Feels good to type it out. I'm not even going to edit right now. Maybe later, but for now I'd like to keep it pure.Labels: dose of mikey, g, looking eastward
* posted by me at 10:24 PM
(2) comments
© 2002-2006 - Michael Slaven. All rights reserved.
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