Nostalgia

With Spring on the horizon, it makes me long for days past. Since moving home, I have vivid memories of what I would do during the Spring. It's been so cold here these past weeks, and I am ready for May. You know what I'm talking about. Warm breezes. Where you can wear shorts or jeans, short or long-sleeves, and be comfortable.

I don't have a sense of smell. It's true. I know some of you know that. It saddens many, thinking that I can't remember things by their scent. I don't know what my grandmas house smells like. I don't know what baking cookies smells like. Or trees. Or flowers. I think this may be why I have such a vivid memory of certain parts of my life. I remember in the way things look. Or feel. Or taste. I have a great memory of sitting on the porch with my pal Lesley in the spring, watching the cars go by and eating Cheetos. They tasted so orange. And memories of the Fine Arts Picnics that MHS had at Riverside Park. Playing volleyball with Jeff, Gregg Lewis, Les, Bubby. I remember the way the grass felt under my feet. First love at the cemetary with "D" (I'm not telling his name!).



I wonder how many times I've loved someone. I don't include family in that. Spring is always the time for falling in love. It seems everything blooms then, so why not romance? How many relationships start in the Spring? Countless. Is it something in the air? The way the breeze blows. That was always it for me.