Going Home to Stamford,Connecticut

I have returned to my hometown, Stamford, in the great Nutmeg State of Connecticut.  I moved from here in 1978, when the Spousal Unit quit teaching and took what he called "a real job".  Corporate America took us all over the place, but Stamford is and was always home. 

On my first day back, I went to a Little League game (in the rain) to watch one niece's little boy make some great plays at 5 years of age. I went to Mass to watch my other niece's daughter serve as an 'altar server' which is the now-gender-neutral term for what used to be an 'altar boy'.  Then back to my sister's house where the whole gang came for a big Father's Day eve dinner.  I lost in Wii Golf to a very co-ordinated 3-year-old.  I also lost to him in Bowling.  And in SkillBall.  Mayhem and noise ensued, thousands of calories were consumed and I loved every second of it all. 

After the family left, I ran down to a bar to meet my cousin and ran into lots of people from long ago including one guy who graduated with me from high school, whom I have not seen since then.  He didn't look exactly the same, but then again, neither do I.  The essence was still there, though, plus something about the face... I love this stuff.  There us something in me that, after 32 years away, I have this desire to reconnect.  Or is it a reluctance to let go?  We reminisced about what we remembered about each other, and that led to more names from the past, not thought of until now.  But it all comes back, crystal clear. Funny how I can't remember what I had for breakfast, but I can tell you what I wore to the Sophomore Hop down to the smallest detail. The mind is a terible thing to lose....