Monday Memory
Merry and I had teh hungers in the late morning yesterday, so we called up a friend and invited her to brunch with us. We went to our favourite restaurant in Dallas, a place where literally the entire staff knows -not just recognizes- us. We always garner a few sideways glances from the other clientele as the manager comes over and kisses us warmly.
The conversation was light and enjoyable. At one point the friend, an old high school mate of Merry's, laughed that her mother always thought Merry was a terrible influence, with as much school-skipping they did together.
The story was funny, and they laughed as they reminisced. I was laughing too, but reminiscing about something else entirely.
None of my high school friends were particularly bad influences. That's not to say I didn't skip class. On the contrary! I always had my parents' blessing when I skipped, which I didn't think was odd until much later. There's one memory that sticks out above the others, one which had laid dormant, forgotten until today.
My dad had many flights of fancy, some of which were more sound than others. One of the more infectiously exciting ones was a spur of the moment trip to ... Six Flags Over Texas, only the biggest theme park in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. Not only was it a school day during the middle of the week, it was during the park's slow season. There were literally no lines. None. My brother and I rode the tallest roller coaster in Texas ... several times. In a row.
That was the best time I've ever had at a theme park. I had just gotten over my fear of roller coasters, so it was a thrill a minute. With no waits.
It's funny to me how some of these memories blind-sight me. I was so afraid, when he died, that I'd forget him. Hence the journal entries. What surprises me is that the memories surface on their own now. I don't have to fish for them anymore. I still scramble for a scrap of paper, or cling tenaciously to the highlights of the memory until I can get to said scrap of paper... but this is so much different than I thought it would be. It still hits me hard sometimes, the fact that he's really gone, but at least the memories are still there.
The conversation was light and enjoyable. At one point the friend, an old high school mate of Merry's, laughed that her mother always thought Merry was a terrible influence, with as much school-skipping they did together.
The story was funny, and they laughed as they reminisced. I was laughing too, but reminiscing about something else entirely.
None of my high school friends were particularly bad influences. That's not to say I didn't skip class. On the contrary! I always had my parents' blessing when I skipped, which I didn't think was odd until much later. There's one memory that sticks out above the others, one which had laid dormant, forgotten until today.
My dad had many flights of fancy, some of which were more sound than others. One of the more infectiously exciting ones was a spur of the moment trip to ... Six Flags Over Texas, only the biggest theme park in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. Not only was it a school day during the middle of the week, it was during the park's slow season. There were literally no lines. None. My brother and I rode the tallest roller coaster in Texas ... several times. In a row.
That was the best time I've ever had at a theme park. I had just gotten over my fear of roller coasters, so it was a thrill a minute. With no waits.
It's funny to me how some of these memories blind-sight me. I was so afraid, when he died, that I'd forget him. Hence the journal entries. What surprises me is that the memories surface on their own now. I don't have to fish for them anymore. I still scramble for a scrap of paper, or cling tenaciously to the highlights of the memory until I can get to said scrap of paper... but this is so much different than I thought it would be. It still hits me hard sometimes, the fact that he's really gone, but at least the memories are still there.