Every now and then, by happenstance, I come across a song or a smell that reminds me of an emotion I once had but that I have long since forgotten I am capable of feeling. A taste or a color that brings forward with startling clarity the me I once was, before I became whatever facsimile of an identity I am right now.
Jen posted this on Facebook, and I cried as I watched it. Because somewhere inside of someone’s wife and several people’s mother, I have to believe there is still the girl I was back when I would go to concerts and flirt with people I didn’t know or care to know and climb ladders with a wrench in hand to tighten a lighting instrument just because I wanted to face down my fear of heights. Back when my best friend and I would listen to JT while we gossiped and polished our waitressing sneakers.
I love my family, and I love being there for them. But sometimes I go to Carolina in my mind.