Monday, February 28, 2005

I tried to sleep in, anyway.

I am not the same person I was yesterday. Who I was yesterday never knew what it was like to wake up this morning. People do not change quickly after this or that event, it is an everyday process. There was not a single moment that made me love you, it was a collection of moments, everyone moving me a little closer to the conclusion. If I were to list all the things that make me who I am, I believe I would find that I became everyone of them slowly, through time.

I read a book that communicated this idea to me. One of the characters in the book, Teller, died, but years before her memory had been preserved in such a way that it could talk and think just like she had until that moment. The main character, Samad, spoke to this memory to find comfort in his grief. But it did not comfort him because the woman he loved was different when she died than this memory of a younger version. I do not know how well I can explain this to you, since you have never read the book.

I think this explains why it feels to awkward when you see a friend you have not seen in years. Maybe nothing exciting happened since the last time you saw them, but your life happened. You changed everyday, and so did they, and you did not change together. Or maybe something big did happen, how can you ever explain to someone how that changed you, or would you want to, or do you even know?

Well, I think that is all I will say on that subject.

Onto what my yesterday self didn't experience: This morning, for reasons unknown to me, there was a bottle of old-spice after-shave sitting on top of the entertainment center. No one in this house uses old spice. So, I picked it up out of curiosity. The cap was strange and I wanted to play with it. I opened the bottle and smelled it. It smelled just like friendly old man. I don't know what mean old man smells like, if that's what you were thinking.

I miss grandpa.

I had the strangest dream last night. I dreamt that my glasses were done and when I went to pick them up, they were the wrong prescription, and I had to get my eyes examined. But, when we went back to the exam room, they just took my blood pressure and then listened to my pulse in my ear. I could feel and hear and see. I usually cant hear. I rarely feel. Hmm.

Well, mom just came home and she brought me lunch.

I love you.

Sarah Jo

1 comment:

your unmocking spoof said...

I haven't read the book , but i can understand what it was getting at...

yay for the smell of friendly old men...