Tonight I went to get my yearbook from the yearbook people, and it is sitting on my dresser right now.
I think high school is one of those things where before you’re actually in it, you haven’t the slightest idea what it’s like. A lot of things in the universe are like that.
I also think high school is one of those things where after you’re out of it, you haven’t the slightest idea what it’s like.
But it’s not a case of still, as in you still don’t know. It’s a case of again. As A. A. Milne once wrote, “We did know once, but we have forgotten…”
In order to fully understand it you have to be included in the moment, and granted it’s a four-year-long moment, but it’s a moment.
It reminds me of C. S. Lewis’ dedication of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to his goddaughter Lucy Barfield. He tells her that once she was young enough for fairy tales. She is too old now, as he dedicates the book to her. But maybe one day when she is old enough again, she can take the book down from a shelf, he says, dust it off, and read it as it should be read. (I’m paraphrasing and making stuff up, but you know.)
Anyway, I cleaned off all the surfaces in my room and cleaned out two drawers too, but then I went to pick up my yearbook and came home and couldn’t clean because too many thoughts got in the way. When cleaning I think it’s best to start without thoughts and let them accumulate as you clear out room for them. Ha. So I’m sitting here blogging instead, in a room that three months from now will contain only vestiges of the life I’m living as I type. I wonder if my parents or my sisters will wander in here and look around and think, “I wish she were here.”