Apparently, I wrote this last August. I never finished it, but WordPress kept it safe for me. Lol! It’s not finished. But, you’re getting it anyway.
The last few days have been filled with memories that hit me like flash floods.
We found a little deli weeks ago, but just couldn’t seem to catch it while it was open. A rather common occurrence when you live in the middle of Cow Town.
Yesterday, we came back from a day trip to find the little Deli open. I ordered a veggie sub (I’m from New England; large sandwiches will always be “Subs”). I bit into it and the taste transported me back to my beautiful mountains. The smell of my favorite trees. It brought me back to a time when things were just as complicated, but some how it seemed a bit simpler. The sound of crunchy, bright colored leaves returned to my ears. I was a kid again, surrounded by all my favorite things. It was completely nuts. I’ve lived away from New England for the better part of a Decade and never once found anything close to our subs. Not that I was looking. Apparently, I should have been.
Today, I was sitting in a little restaurant having breakfast when I bit into home fries that reminded me of breakfast with my Wife. Every Wednesday we would drop our son off at school and go eat at this little cozy restaurant right down the street. It was always the same breakfast, and the same waitress. I eventually tired of the breakfast, and the coffee I swear declined the longer we went but I never tired of the fact that my wife WANTED to go. Wanted to be there, and wanted to be out of the house… at a time nothing else would move her from bed.