We have been talking about Santi/James. We have started watching "Seinfeld." This was his favorite show. I love "Friends." Man, we used to run home for Must See Thursday on NBC. Every episode reminds me of his favorite parts. He would talk in Seinfeld sometimes. We had seen this show several times in our lives. I remember going to college when this show first came out. I missed most of the first season the first time around. If they gave "Seinfeld" in reruns, we always chose to watch it.
It seems like I lived a different life. The music was different. I remember waiting for the bus after coming out of rehearsals or a late class. He would always pick me up from college or work. It didn't matter if it was far from home. Santi lived in Brooklyn and I lived almost at the end of the Bronx. It would take him hours to get back home after making sure I got to my house. He would get out of the train station and walk me the three blocks to my house and to my door. He made sure I would go in. Sometimes, we would sit out on the steps and just talk. Sometimes, my dad would come out and hang out with us. We used to live out the Beach Boys song.
"Wouldn't it be nice if we were older, then we would have to wait so long. And would it be nice to live together, in the kind of world where we belong. You know it's' going to make it that much better, when we can say goodnight and stay together. Wouldn't it be nice."
We were so impossibly young. I was only 22 years old when I met him. I had just turned 22 years old. He had just turned 22 years old. We were two babies, so immature. I went to school and had weird part time jobs. He worked in the Village. We would spend the days just wandering the city. We would run to my house to watch Seinfeld in a home that didn't have cable. There were no cell phones back then. We had beepers. It watch the show and it just brings back the time. For a brief moment in time, I am back with him. The children aren't even a gleam in our eyes. I can't even fathom who I was then but when I stop watching, I wonder what I am doing in this house in Arizona with my two teenagers. It would seem that just yesterday I was waiting for the bus on Bedford Avenue with Santi, waiting to go home and watch the show at 9pm.
I'm laughing as I watch this show with Janet, my little girl. This is a new incarnation of this show. I'm thankful to have a window into the memories that are conjured up by this show. It's better to have them than to not have them. I wonder what would happen if we started watching "Little House on the Prairie." Would I remember my mother and father? Would I be able to remember fighting with Joanne to watch this show? I don't know. It's funny the things that conjure up memories. God wouldn't have given us memories if He didn't mean to have us remember, right? Thank you, God for these warm moments in this short life we have. Praise the Lord!