Going Back

I sometimes wonder what it would have been like to stay all 4 (5) of my college years at Mary Baldwin. It was such a beautiful place, with a good mix of the familiar and foreign. And my best friend, Michelle, was there! I mean why would I ever leave? And so I carry that wondering with me.

But last week Michelle and I visited our old school, and on Parents' Day in the early afternoon, we trudged up the steps of a baby mammoth hill. What we found at the top was familiar: a campus almost devoid of other humans. On a day of visiting, almost no one was to be found! And that weight of wondering soon began to melt and drip away.

Memories of confined, somewhat lonely days flood in; and I remember what kept things sane were Michelle and a few other friends. Staying would have been a much more dangerous mental proposition than was leaving. And leaving allowed me a nostalgic remembrance of this place, a mental photo album of the good days, the interesting days. The laughter. The romantic idea attached to attending a women's university.

So I suppose every 10 years or so I will trek to this small town to see the college on the hill and remember the vibrant days (or at least I remember them to be) I lived out there. They are memories of fall leaves and new beginnings and sledding and creating a bond with someone that thrives despite distance, time, and change.

How lucky I am.