I had said in a blog a while back that I lost the keeper of my memories. Mark had better recall than I and whenever I’d go through various pictures, I’d have him tell me who what when where… but the recall rarely was triggered independently of him.
Until this weekend.
Driving around with Marja in Terrace, the memories kept popping up.
The place we used to go fishing.
The time the bear chased us across the Shames.
The place Kyle fell in the river.
The house we lived in.
The awesome farmer’s market we lived next to.
The house she lives in that we spent a lot of time at.
Her old house where I learned how to make garlic butter.
Euchre. Gawd I loved playing euchre with them.
Ferry Island with the faces in the trees.
Hikng Terrace Mountain.
Where Video Update/Movie Gallery used to be.
Where the quilt shop was (it’s moved just down the road).
The fishing store we spent so much time at.
The restaurant we ate frog legs at.
The cafe we had a date night at every week – I don’t remember what we were doing but we got a couple hours together every week and played triominoes. No kids. No worries. Just him and I. I was pregnant with Andrew.
It was painful. It was joyful. It was so very lovely to immerse myself in memories, to just enjoy the feeling of the beginning of *us* and remember it with a smile.
The weather was perfect.
Sunshine-y. Hot. Everything that we loved about Terrace. It wasn’t supposed to be – there was supposed to be rain. But he was going back to the Shames…and we never went there on a grey rainy day. Knowing that he was there with me on so many levels… being able to just enjoy Marja’s company…
I wish, I regret not going back before now. But it is what it is and it was so very right being there this past weekend.
We had a good life there… even with all the first years learning each other and learning to live with each other, it was a good life there.
Good memories. Good times. And I’ve reconnected with people who were once very important to me. And I won’t lose contact again.