Sometimes we take a trip down memory lane in our mind. A slice of your past gets past Broca and re-enters your "now" conscience. Then it slowly fades and is put back in the mental attic.
Sometimes though, you take a real trip down memory lane and bring your physical being into the place your mind has gone.
I went to my hometown last night. Had dinner with family at "our" restaurant and then decided to drive by my old house. Then I decided to walk around the back of my old house (we lived on the 12th fairway of the Country Club). Then I decided to knock on the door. The people who lived in our house now were so generous and allowed me to come in and stroll down memory lane. It had been 2008 since I stepped foot in there after we said our last goodbyes to our father.
It was amazing.
The memories flooded into my head and I couldn't help but smile.
Football.
Christmas concerts downstairs.
Nerf hoops.
Breakfast with dad.
Hot Wheel courses.
Frisbee with my sister.
Yelling Shazam and hoping lightning would strike.
My bike.
And many more...
And then there was my tree.
When I introduced myself, they said "It's the Joe from Joe's tree!"
I planted a small seedling on Arbor Day in 1972. It grew into an amazing beast of a tree. It was beautiful. They told me they had to cut it down a couple of years ago because it had split but they knew it was "Joe's tree."
I am still smiling this morning from my time capsule moment last night. I was transported back in time. I was home again. I was young again.
No major life lessons to learn. Just a simple stroll on a starry night in Beloit Wisconsin.
Simply magical.
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