Went back to see how far along I had gotten with my little Memory Game, figure I might as well get back into it.
After I got through my wonderously adventurous summer-after-college I was an overhire electrician for a couple of theatres and ran a sound board of sorts for a local regional theatre’s fall show. I took a couple of classes towards my teaching certification, partly because I knew I would eventually want it and knew it wasn’t going to get any easier to do so. As it ended up my grandmother passed away in December that year and in the end I never made up the credit lost on one of the two classes.
I had dreaded my grandmother’s funeral for a few years at that point, more so because it would force an encounter between my mother and my aunt than anything else. I remember my mother burst into tears when she saw the casket, and after a few moments of sobbing my aunt was pushing her along to admire some flowers in another room and I wanted to shake her and say “Just let her be SAD for a moment would you!!” It was the only sound given to real emotion in the entire time we were there. I left feeling sorry for my aunt and my uncles, and most of all for my mother– it must require so much discipline to hold so much in for so long. It was shortly after the Bush-Gore recount mess and it seemed that my uncles reveled in arguing with me about the NRA and the economy– maybe it took their mind off of it all.
I moved into my first apartment a a couple months later and I remember Professor’sFamily telling the Kids that I was moving out because I had to grow up. I cried the day I moved– not wanting to walk out of this chapter of my life and into the next. I really loved my apartment though– my own parking space, my own kitchen, organizing my things and putting my mark on the place. 5 years later I would struggle again in leaving and I guess that’s just what I’ve so often been about, coming into what’s Next with a lot of kicking and screaming, mourning my own growing up.
