Day Twenty-Nine

My coveted day off, woo-hoo. Shortly after I woke up this morning, the phone in my room rang. It was our Food Services Supervisor, Drew. He said he thought he had my keys and then described the keychain, yep, he had my keys. I said, oh nothat’s not good, my keys unlock the store and the bar and the stockrooms to both. Yikes. He said they were found in the door to the store office, which sounds about right. I ran back in last night to grab my french press so that I could wake up and have coffee without leaving my room and dang if I didn’t just shut the door and walk away with the keys still dangling from the door. It’s done and over with, but I’m still shaking the icky feeling of that whoopsie.

Perhaps it is a shining example of the winter-over brain. Brain fog, forgetfulness and the affectionately dubbed Antarctic Stare are all telltale signs of the winter-over brain. I have caught myself in a glazed over stare on more than one occasion here lately. As for forgetfulness, I’ve never needed to write things down more so than I have here lately. Yes, I’d say my winter-over brain is here.

After I made my coffee,
I took to scrolling on the social medias. A gross habit, I know. One that is also not conducive to stopping the act of comparing, which I am trying hard to break and scrolling does not align with that. As I was scrolling and sipping on my coffee, I paused to look at a photo a friend back in Virginia posted. It was a snap of inside a small jewelry store back home called Caulkins and the caption read, Gone but not forgotten. The store was located in the historic district of Leesburg, where I lived before selling up to live my best travel life. Eight years ago, there was a fire in the apartments above the store and it ended up having to relocate after being in that spot for over sixty years. Stanley Caulkins, the store owner, is a legend in the area. The local airport terminal is named after him and he did heaps for the community.

Here’s the fun part. I dated Bryan, the jeweler from Caulkins. Stanley never had children and Bryan was pretty much his adopted son. Bryan and I remained friends after going our separate ways. We haven’t been in touch since March of last year, but as with most good friends, we can go ages without communicating and then pick right up. Anywho, as I was sat there looking at the picture of Caulkins, reading the caption and having a little blast from the past, thinking of the time that we spent with Stanley during the end of his life, dang if an IM from Bryan didn’t pop up on the screen in that very moment! Crazy.

He was having dinner at Andy’s, a local spot that I used to moonlight at, and now my brother, Sam, works there too. It was the first time Bryan had been there in a while and so he was surprised to see my brother there and they took a selfie together and that’s what his message was, a photo of him and Sam, saying look who I ran into. But, that timing! To be looking at a memory bubble that involved him and for him to reach out in that very moment, after over a year. Hello, Universe.

2 responses to “Day Twenty-Nine”

  1. OMG Anne-Marie! That gave me goosebumps of happiness! For you, for Bryan and Sam and for all of us connected through the threads of our lives here on earth! I am loving your 100 day journal I read it each morning. And feel connected to your adventure – and also to your growing, healing, fun loving spirit. I have wanted to comment before – a couple last week touched me deeply. And yet it also felt like the point was not to make a comment – but to feel your feelz touch my feelz. And just feelz them. 🙃 ❤️ Anyway- please know you are writing some lovely bad poetry! 😂🎈🙏🎁🥳 And I really appreciate you sharing the stories and your heart.

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    1. annemarieathey Avatar
      annemarieathey

      Thank you Linda…I feel your feelz! ❤

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