Flashbacks

I went to a little party last Sunday.  Friends I haven’t been in touch with for over 20 years invited us over for a get-together, in upstate New York. I spoke to my best friend, who had also been friends with this person the morning of and she told me who was going to be there.  She mentioned a guy, Keith, whom she said I wouldn’t know.  When we finally got to the house after driving through torrential downpours of rain and we said our hellos and introductions, one lady looked very, very familiar.  She happened to be Keith’s wife; as a matter of fact, even Keith looked familiar.  So, we went through our “how do I know you” list of all the places we lived, worked, etc., etc.   We finally nailed it to our daughters going to the same elementary school and then when I told her Lindsay’s full name, she started yelling, “Lindsay, that little squirt, Lindsay is your daughter?!!!” as she placed her hand about two feet from the floor to emphasize the “little squirt” part.  Then, she started reminiscing about the sleepover party that her daughter had and how Lindsay was so upset about her grandma dying that her daddy had to come pick her up, only to find out later that her grandma had died over two years ago.  I corrected her and told her that it was my grandma who had died and it was seventeen years before that time.  I found it so typical that someone would remember Lindsay from 20 years ago.  Maybe it was all the “center of attention” tricks she would pull or just her petite size that made her unforgettable.   Another coincidence was when this woman told me that her daughter was getting married too.  This wedding thing, it’s spreading like the Swine Flu.  So, of course we had to discuss and compare the usual- the wedding dress, the hall, the flowers, the bridesmaid dresses, the expense, the whole wedding planning progression.  If an alien would’ve landed on earth that very moment, he would have seen two women, speaking very, very fast, in very high voices, oohing and ahhing trying to give and get as much information as possible. 

I called Lindsay while I was at the party.  “You’ll never guess who’s here,” I told her.  “Oh my g-d!” she replied, “I could just picture her when I close my eyes.”  I told her that she was getting married, also, in April.  During the week, Lindsay “friended” her on facebook.  They had many friends in common- girls who went to Pre-Kindergarten through first grade with them.  And they’re all engaged.  I guess this is the time, when they reach that stage of their lives.  Later on that week, Lindsay received a thank you card from another girl in that group she reunited with recently and who's wedding she had attended in March.  I looked at the beautiful bride in the photo, a young woman now, and I had a flashback of her as the little four-year-old Lindsay was friends with.  It’s so mind boggling how being a parent makes that time rush by like flipping pages quickly in a book. 

And then I had a memory I hadn’t thought of in years….driving Lindsay to her first day in elementary school.  The school aides would be there every morning to take each child out of their car as we would drive up.  When it was Lindsay’s turn, I remember, vividly, how she walked holding the aide’s hand to those enormous school doors in her purple plaid pleated skirt with matching vest and white shirt.  I still feel that pang in my heart to my stomach, as those doors opened and Lindsay entered and was quickly out of sight.  It felt like minutes ago when I held her in my arms in the hospital.  And there she was inside that huge building, without me to be with her for a whole day.  And there I was, sobbing like a child, myself. 

And here I am now, thinking how will I walk her down that long aisle without weeping and ruining my makeup that I will pay a small fortune to have someone put on me that day?