My parents called last week to let me know that one of my classmates had died when the car he was driving was hit by a train. I didn't know what to say except I was sad to hear that. I hadn't seen him since our 20 year class reunion and had lost touch with where he was or what he was doing. It was weird to think that someone that had been so incredibly important to my life while I was growing up was a stranger now.
I thought a lot this week about that the reality that my childhood was more of a dream than a reality. Memories ebbed, flowed and ran together. There was so much that I hadn't thought about in years. I shared some of those reminisces with Doug while we were on a long walk on Sunday. It was more of a story than a part of my life anymore. I felt bad that the life of someone that I knew long ago had ended in a tragic way. I was sure that it would be a hardship on his family, but realized that it didn't really affect me except for the sadness that I felt for those who were mourning his loss. I knew that thirteen year old me would never believe that there was life beyond middle school. It was amazing to think that there ever was a younger me that didn't know Doug or wasn't the mom of the Heinisch four. The reality was that I enjoyed my life now more than I ever did then. It wasn't because it was horrible then, but because I loved my life now. Guess that's why I am always looking forward and never back.
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