I know when I woke up from the hospital in 2002, that I did not remember getting married (in 2001), and then I realized when I went back to work that I was rhyming off students names from my first year of teaching (98/99). I had forgotten at least two years worth of teaching BUT I could teach all the material. The headmaster sat at the back of the room while I taught my lesson to a bunch of OAC strangers, and verified I knew my stuff. (Later the students told me I taught it a few times since my short-term memory was bad also).
Anyway, while making these anniversary cakes all month, I got to thinking about my parents' anniversary and wondered when I needed to plan for the next big year. If I am 35...then they'd be married 37 years. So we should have celebrated at least their 25th, right? Nope, I didn't think so. I felt guilty all day and when I finally saw mom for Thanksgiving, I asked her.
She looked at me with a blank face, and then she blinked. "Oh, you threw us a party all right, and gave a speech and everything." Quite eloquently, apparently, and I still don't remember.
So that was Sept. 1998. And I hadn't even met Mr. Man yet.
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