Memory and Regrets

I just returned from a short trip, where I visited an great friend, a brother and sister, and my past. I went to retrieve some items that had been stored for 7 years in the basement of a college acquaintance, since it was long overdue and they were selling their house.

It was the first time I was away from my son. I can't say I missed him nearly as much as I expected that I would. Then again, I never respond the way most do to things as I "should". Unlike many other "shoulds" this one didn't particularly make me feel guilty. It was a nice break. I need to be able to drink countless glasses of wine sometimes. This particular time included a college face book.

Which took me down memory lane...well, it's more like a dark forest path, actually. I had recently found a journal, which included my account of a failed relationship and how heartbroken I was about it. While I feel a lot of regrets about those college years - I never completed college (I had one year left), spent half of it depressed and pushing people away instead of welcoming friendship, and mostly seeing now that I didn't belong there, it was the path I needed to take out of my protected, sheltered life.

I ended up getting rid of at least half of the stuff that I had placed in storage. It was good to remember and then move on. I kept the journal to serve as a reminder to me how things are never what they seem now matter how depressed I am at the time.

I feel like Christian, the Pilgrim, who, carrying his load of sins is finally relieved of the burden (except there is no christ figure or cross in my story). I've changed in some way. I'm refreshed, ready to move on.

Now, to get reacquainted with my son, who seems to have forgotten who I was. Or so, the blank stare at the airport led me to believe. I'm not worried.