Flashbacks

I haven't seen my friend Sheri since 11th grade. And when I saw her I was too wrapped up in the year's projects, German II and after school work to do more than make a mental note to get back with her the minute I had free time. She's been out of State for 6 years and things just kept truckin' along so we lost touch. When I did have time to seek her she had moved again. Until Facebook I hadn't heard from her in nearly 2 years. So we got together for coffee.

Coffee has to be the cheapest date in this town. for a meager 4.00 you can sit with a friend for 2,4,6 even up to 10 hours and gab about nothing and everything. It was a good visit. Not only did we get to hit the highlights about life, love and living situations we were able to touch off old memories and get some explanation for things that we remembered. And we got confirmation that we were not crazy. That we did really remember some very bizarre things about school in Traverse City. One thing in particular struck me with such a force that it has taken me a couple of days to let it sink in.

"I remember the day you told me you were psychic."

We were talking about elementary school, first kisses, the boys with the cool toys and art supplies and the teachers that scared the confessions right out of us. Sheri stunned me. How in the world would I have known when I was 10 that I was psychic and why would I know? Clearly befuddled she offered this story.

It was the day that girl got hit by a car on the corner where you used to live. I don't remember her name. She was a red-headed twin. We were standing by the gym, looking at the accident; for some reason you just said "I'm psychic." Whenever I think back on those days and remember you that is what I remember first. Most. I don't know why.

I don't know why I would have said that to her. I'm sure that my Irish Gramma had a lot to do with it though. She used to say that I was an old soul. And that mom was kinda afraid of me because she couldn't fool me like she could fool everyone else. Oh sure, I fell for every practical joke out there. But when it came to teaching me about the world and how to treat people I was able to call her out on the carpet. Unfortunately I couldn't always tell what was going on when she was trying to teach me who I was. Gramma said that psychic connection is why I liked people so much for, as mom would say "So little reason." And why it hurt so much when they left. But also why animals liked me so much and I them. Gramma also said that it would be a difficult gift because I would not need constant letters and phone calls to keep me connected to people I love but they would need those things from me... sometimes in abundance.

After talking to Sheri, I remember that day and Gramma's words so much more clearly. But I can not for the life of me figure out why I would have told her that. The only explanation I have is that I was bursting to tell someone and she felt like a safe place to divest myself of such a burdensome secret.