I happened upon these two photos over the week-end while going through some papers. They were taken when Jamie was between 18 and 24 months old (probably closer to 18 months). I was at his day home that afternoon playing piano for the kids.
Looking at these pictures, I'm trying to remember this 36 old woman. Sure, I remember things about me, like how incredibly sleep deprived I was (Jamie didn't sleep through the night until he was three years old, plus I was doing the morning show on CBC) or how overwhelming my life felt at that point. But to really know who that person was? It's lost and I can't seem to bring it back. I can't find myself as a 10 year old either, or a 17 year old, or a 25 year old or a 39 year old. Hell, I don't even know if I can uncover the Janet of two years ago.
What happens if I reach old age, and can't find any of the Janet's that have made up my life? Where do those Janet's go?
All of this rambling has been brought on by 'The Time Traveller's Wife', which I finished on Sunday night. It's a most wonderful read, but be forewarned. It will tear your guts out.
7:02:40 AM 
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