Memory Lane

It's been a nostalgic kind of morning.

Before church Reggie had quite the diaper. It was reminiscent of the diaper on the way up Galena Summit, but without all the screaming. If you don't know what I'm referring to, I'm going to leave you in the dark. It is too disgusting to want to remember accurately enough to write.

During Relief Society I kept staring at the sister conducting. I KNOW I know her from somewhere, but I haven't placed it yet.

Once the sister conducting sat down, the teacher stood up. Again, she looked so familiar. I sat there listening and then she mentioned something that jogged my memory. I was taken back to BYU in my cohort semester practicum class with Kendra Hall. Sister Hall had invited a guest speaker for a few of the classes, and that same woman was now teaching my Relief Society lesson. Good memories.

And finally, one of the musical numbers from today was "Each Life That Touches Ours For Good." I stifled a smile as I remembered the summer when a friend and I found a dead bird in my parents yard. We bravely scooped it into a paper bag (ok, my friend did that. I wasn't about to touch it!), and drove it to Lacamas Lake where we gave it a burial at sea. As we put the bag in the water, my friend whistled "Each Life That Touches Ours For Good" while I giggled at the silliness of it.

I'm glad for good memories. I'm glad for nostalgic moments. Now if only my short term memory worked as well as my long term memory...