Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?

Nostalgia, according to Merriam-Webster Online, is sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy or personal associations. Most of us are guilty of this at one time or another. I certainly have been. Who hasn't wished for the innocence and stressful life of a child? Ah, with what rose-colored glasses we dream!

Even as a small child, I somehow intrinsically knew to sign, date, and save many aspects of my life - both good and bad. I've always, at some level, wanted my future self to remember who I was, to not forget my past.

As I was cleaning an upstairs closet, I stumbled upon a letter that I wrote during the winter of 1991. This would put me right around 9 or 10 years, depending on if "winter of '91" refers to the beginning or end of 1991 since both are still considered winter. Either way, it's a primary document that reminds me of my past - the good and the bad. Click on this thumbnail to view a bigger - readable - image of the letter. There was so much going on in my life when I wrote this! It's almost difficult to read the anger in this letter because of my sense of humor and my obvious awareness of how others might perceive myself and the letter. It's also interesting from a psychological standpoint - I threaten to run away, and I give the family until summer to make the necessary changes to keep me from following through with the threat.

If I'm not mistaken, I *did* run away after this letter. I packed approximately 3-4 plastic Wal-Mart-type bags with some food, clothes, and a few items such as books, stuffed animals, etc. to keep me company. When I left, I walked away from the highway in front of our house and deep into the woods, along the creek, and through some fields - a huge U - so that I could circumnavigate the neighbors' houses and thus avoid detection. I then got back on the highway and started heading east toward a major junction where I planned to hitch a ride. That's really as far as my planning got me. I made it quite a few miles until Berry hauled me in and took me back home. I was so embarrassed and mad at him! I still remember the stretch of road where I was picked up.