Annie, even in 4th grade, a perfectionist

In Spanish, there's a very popular saying, "Dime con quien andas y te dire quien eres," which translates to "Tell me who you hang out with and I will tell you who you are." While staying with my sister's childhood friend in Ann Arbor, I was reminded of this while observing these two friends, Ann and Yaseen, who have known each other for years. The evening was spent recounting stories, catching up on times lost, and laughing at their old selves from long ago. This story was my favorite of the Annie from elementary school.

Ann: Remember that 4th grade history test on the Alamo?
Yaseen: No...
Ann: I remember it because I was so baffled by how I got a check minus and you got a perfect score. I wrote an entire paragraph in response to this one question on what happened at the Alamo. I listed dates and names of generals. You only wrote down three words..."
Yaseen: Yes, I remember! "Many...Texans...died." BOOM! ONE HUNDRED PERCENT! (He throws both arms in the air)

They are both laughing now.

Ann: I kept looking at both our papers, confused by the results.
Yaseen: That was redemption Annie for all the times you beat me on those tests. Thanks for reminding me. How could I forget that?!

In transit

I am in transit.

trans - (Latin) across, through

it - (Latin) to go

I am going through ... states.

I’ve often used this term to describe my physical state of being in daily life. But transit in New York City was always within the bounds of my familiar neighborhoods. Midtown Manhattan to Woodside, Queens. Repeat daily. Similar to washing one’s hair--lather, rinse, and repeat if necessary--my movements were habitual and comforting. Now the neighborhoods (and states) I pass through are unfamiliar, each movement new and exciting.

Yet inwardly, I am in transit as well. Even though we've been on the road for only two days, I've been fortunate to reconnect with many friends from different times in my life. Over delicious meals and tea time with chocolate, we "go through" shared memories, delving deep into the past. Like in Dickens' A Christmas Carol, I see my life flash before my eyes--each friend guiding me through the times spent together. Remember how Mr. Marceron's fifth-grade classroom always smelled like coffee and vinegar? Remember that amazing apple-picking trip to Syracuse and the piping hot pot of potato-leek soup we guzzled at 3 am after the long car ride from the City? To really be with someone who knew you before you were you today is truly a gift, for better or for worse. Even more powerful than letters or mementos, a comrade can tease out those memories and details left at the very back and dusty sections of the mind's filing cabinet.

Traveling through space and time. "In transit” has taken on new meaning ... at least for now.

To keep or not to keep

To keep or not too keep ... that is the question I've been asking myself constantly these last few days. How many times have I said to myself in the past, "Let me hold on to this. It may come in handy some day"? And yes it may, but it also may not. And given the number of times I choose to hold on to something, probability says that I will not use most of what I save. Except when it comes to letters from friends or other sentimental objects. These items represent memories of bygone times, perhaps of a dear friend, or even a different self. As I was sifting through one of my letter boxes today, I found comics drawn by a friend of mine who passed away a couple of years ago from leukemia. All of a sudden, I was in fourth grade, sitting next to Ann Metz in our social studies class, covertly folding a note to slip in her desk. We had pseudonyms when addressing our missives--she was the "Ark," and I was the "Dove." Would I have had that precious moment of remembrance, had I not saved her letters? Life goes by too fast as it is--one barely has time to process the events of any given day, let alone periods of one's life in retrospect.

A little life pruning has its benefits. Discard the clothes, shoes, bags, and humidifier. (I can get a fondue pot again in California if I really need it.) Hold on to and revisit the memories. They will remind you where you have come from. Without remembering the joys, trials, and tribulations on a journey, how can one learn or take pleasure from the experience?