Ghosts of me

I'm a sentimental person. If you saw my garage and the things I keep for sentiment's sake, you may call me a hoarder, but that's another story. I like to keep things that have memories attached to them. Some things you can't keep---like the entire Splash Mountain ride would never fit in my suitcase, let alone in my garage or backyard. I guess that's why we take pictures and why I love to scrapbook.

Along with collecting pictures and scrapbooks, I think I'm a collector of moments. I like to visit places I have been in the past, to take a second to reflect on who I was at that moment. Sometimes in my mind's eye I can almost see myself. I've come to call it The Ghost of Me.

Whenever we drive to Logan and pass a certain spot just out of the canyon I want to give my old self an encouraging word, "You'll get through this." Every time I pass that field I can't help but remember the day after I got my first horrible prosthetic eye. After crying/hyperventilating for an hour's journey, I was finally able to sob to Taylor, "I was supposed to be beautiful!" And every time we pass I'm grateful that I got through that.

I love to pass by Mountain View High School where the Miss Utah Pageant was held. Every time I pass it I slow down a bit, glancing at the back of the school where our "dressing trailers" were. I can almost feel my plastic shoes and smell the air full of hairspray, fake tanning lotion, and flower bouquets; and I remember how it felt to have my dreams come true.

I love to eat at Los Hermanos in Lindon. I like the food. But along with that there are so many memories at so many tables. I smile at long tables piled high with food and friends during high school. With that thought my eyes go to a smaller table where a few of us gathered after our ten-year reunion. I whisper a prayer of thanks to another table where, a year after high school I sat with the boy I was dating. With a "yes" on my lips I thought he was going to ask me to marry him right there, but instead he told me he was going on a mission---and forever changed my life in ways I never imagined. I see myself there, wearing a lavender woven shirt, unaware of the momentous shift that his decision would make in my life---so much good came out of that.

I love to sit in the Lehi chapel where I attended church for almost 23 years. I see myself on the east side as a young child, sitting with my family and grandparents---I can feel my feet dangling from the bench and smell Grandma Ina, a mixture of perfume, lipstick, and pink mints. I look to the center back and see myself sitting next to Grandma Rhoda, holding her age-spotted hand. We were lucky enough to be in her ward during the first year of our marriage. Later, we were in between wards when Claire was born, so we blessed her in my parent's ward. I can see myself bringing Claire up to the front, feel her tiny body stretching as I held her up to be admired. When I visit my mom and dad's ward I can see myself in all of those life stages.

Wherever I go I'm glad to not be in some moments and wish that I could relive others. More than anything, seeing the ghost of me---in good and bittersweet moments---makes me so grateful for what I have had and for what I have now. Do you do this?