An Evening of Wine-Induced Reminiscing

I visited my parents yesterday evening. I was overdue for a visit, and I wanted to mention my rather traumatic workweek (see previous blog entry) to someone other than a girlfriend. Before I left to go to my parents’, I had a glass of red wine. When I arrived at my parents’, I consumed another glass of red wine with my mom. I guess I could safely say that after that second glass I was pretty relaxed.

We lived in Columbus, Ohio until the summer before my sophomore year in high school. We then moved to Chicago. It was as though all my “kids’ stuff” took place in Ohio, and my more “adult stuff” took place in Illinois. Last evening I told my mom over the kitchen table that I missed both Ohio, and being a kid. She calmly asked me if I longed for the “good old days”. I told her that I did. My mother kind of smiled as she informed me that today my “good old days” are my childhood days, but in twenty or thirty years the “good old days” will be the very days I am currently living. My mother told me that someday in the future I might possibly reminisce back to the actual discussion we were having and think of the conversation as a part of the “good old days”.

Sometimes my mother will mess-up some simple math problem while looking over some bills, but then she will turn right around and say something insightful or philosophical that seems almost genius.     

Over the last few months I have become aware that there are occasional brief moments when I will miss doing the silly, meaningless kids’ stuff, stuff like playing backyard soccer with my friends, pretending I’m a cheerleader, or playing dress-up. And at times I will miss the modest stuffed animal collection I had, and my favorite, Fuzzy Bear, in particular. But I think that, deep down, the truth is that what I am really missing during these periods of foolish reminiscing is the childlike innocence and the naivety I felt back then.

Nine years ago in Columbus my best friend was Shannon Thomas. Yesterday evening I got to thinking that I’d like to visit Shannon again. I thought that I’d like to meet the 23 year-old Shannon, but I knew that in reality what I really wanted was to chat with my friend, the 14 year-old Shannon from 2003. After all, that was the Shannon who I really miss. But even though I had consumed a little too much wine, I knew that traveling into the past was not possible. Still, there are times when I wish it were, last night being one of those times.

A couple of glasses of wine can do some strange things to a brain, especially my brain.