#FMF Once

Every Friday I write for 5 minutes with the word as the springboard.

Once when I was two years old I moved from the little house next to railroad tracks to a different house in a different town. I don’t remember moving, but I have heard the stories and seen the home movies. The movies were shown on the old projectors with the film that flapped when you reached the end. I haven’t seen them since elementary school. Filmstrips were used in middle school with a separate cassette tape. Time has moved on and so has technology.

The story underneath this one is that time changes perspective.

There are chunks of time I don’t remember at all. Why is that? Did shifts not happen? Am I blocking something I want to forget? Did I not have any transformations?

Once when I was eighteen I moved to college but there was no one to help me. I was the first person in my family to go to college and I do not remember any family friends that had gone either. I had to be resourceful and learn to pivot in the moment.

The story underneath this one is that I learned to depend on myself early in my life through experience, circumstance, and need.

Once when I was twenty one I moved to an apartment in a brand new town for a brand new job.  “A real job” whatever that is. I don’t remember how we found the apartment and I don’t remember touring it first. I had no friends. I didn’t seem to fit. I threw myself into my work and came close to burn out in March of the school year.

The story underneath this one is that I learned extreme behavior to make changes to my life early in my career. I found a pattern that worked in the short term and followed it.

Once when I was twenty five I moved to a house I purchased. A real adult moment that left me feeling trapped. We lived there for less than a year because my Oma died and we moved back to my hometown.

I never wanted to move back there. My grief clouded my judgment and I said yes when I should have said no. It is one of the few regrets I have in my life. There are months I have no recollection of anything connected to the year 2000.

The story underneath this one is that I felt betrayed by a decision made at a highly emotional moment in time.

Once when I was forty six I wondered how much time I have lost in my own timeline.

The story underneath this one is the reason I write.

5 thoughts on “#FMF Once

  1. Thank you for a courageous post. I don’t think the time is ever lost. My experience when I reflect back on sad times, and times I regret is that the Lord can redeem them. I have faith that the mistakes I am making now will be alright in the long run if I carry on trusting!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is an interesting post, filled with your life moments of transitions and moves. I wonder, do you see any common theme or thread that ties the underlying stories together?

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I just absolutely love this post. LOVE it! About two years ago I decided to return to college and so I pulled an old copy of my transcripts. I was surprised to see that I had taken a swimming class in the Fall of 2001. I had absolutely no recollection of this. None. So I asked my husband, and he didn’t remember it either. Sometimes the things we don’t remember are so unremarkable they’re not worthy of brain real estates. Other times, as you have written so well, sometimes they mean everything.

    Amie. #34

    Liked by 1 person

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