Ghosts of Ourselves

As I took Hannah and her friend Ashley to school this morning, I saw ghosts of ourselves.  Last year, well, 2014-15 actually, I would take Dragon to school every morning at around 7:30.  We’d leave the house and drive out towards Tustin Ranch Road.  On the way, we’d see the morning rush of junior high students making their way to Pioneer Middle School.  Often, we’d spy Hannah and her friend Sam waiting at the crosswalk.  Sometimes we’d open the window and yell Hannah’s name, embarrass her, and wave.  Other times, Dragon and I would see her there and just remark to each other, “There’s Hannah.”  Then Dragon and I would be on our way, make the left, head towards Santa Ana, head towards high school.  That was our routine every morning.

This year, I only drive to OCSA one morning a week since we have the benefit of our carpool.  And because we have a carpool, we have to leave a little earlier, and drive a different way, so I don’t usually bump into the Pioneer Middle School crowd making their way to school.

But this morning, for various reasons, Hannah and Ashley and I found ourselves at that corner at that time, watching the kids waiting at the crosswalk.  It took me back to those mornings with Dragon as my co-pilot, sitting next to me, scanning the crowd for his sister.  As I waited for the light to signal that I could go, that I could turn left, that I could head towards Santa Ana and head towards their high school, I saw ghosts of ourselves.

It’s all the same, but different.

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