Old Flames


We’ve been going through a bunch of old pictures at our house lately, having a good time reliving different parts of our lives and lots of events over many years.  This led to us to reminiscing the other day, my husband and I, about people we knew before we knew each other — and the conversation came around to a young woman that he had a crush on, a long time ago.  I knew her also, she lived in the same small town where I grew up. “Let’s see if she’s on Facebook,” I suggested, thinking it might be fun to check it out.  It absolutely didn’t feel strange or weird suggesting this, she was a perfectly nice person and it was close to fifty years ago — I thought it might be an interesting connection after so long.  “Okay,” he shrugged.  So I pulled out my laptop, did a quick search on a specific Facebook page that has to do with my hometown and voila — mission accomplished.  But when I showed my husband, he adjusted his glasses while he frowned, shook his head and claimed very seriously that  I must be mistaken. “I don’t think so,” he said, squinting at the picture and assessing the photo quite critically.  “I think that’s her mother.”

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