I’ve started writing my goodbye letters/cards and planning my last few days in Aber. It seems a little surreal. Didn’t I just get here?
It seems as I’m getting ready to leave Aber, the memories are returning at every corner. Just yesterday I was walking along the twisted, confusing outside steps and inside corridors of Hugh Owen. I remember thinking that first day that that was the weirdest building I had ever walked through, in, around. Now, not so much. Yes, Hugh Owen is really, really weird. The numbering scheme makes no sense. And the fact you can enter from the outside on any floor but E or F (I believe) is incredibly weird. But I’ve gotten used to it.
I remember thinking I was going to use that cute little convenience shop near my flat. Yeah, not so much. I remember thinking on that first night when I walked out of the train station and we sped along to the flat, “Where the hell am I going? What are these buildings? What is behind that railing?” (Okay, maybe not the last one. The sound of the ocean was a little too obvious for that stupid comment.) I was so confused. Nothing really made sense the first week I was here in Aber. People told me to meet them at Spoons. I must have looked so confused so they asked where I did know. I knew the train station and they said Spoon’s was the train station. It took another few days before I realized Wetherspoon’s is commonly called “Spoons” by the locals and is normally around train stations, airports, etc.
There are other memories, some hazy, some clear. Going to the hospital is pretty clear. My first Archives class… a little hazy. Some people I remember meeting for the first time – others, not so much. Most people I can say with confidence where I first had a conversation with them. Heather is special because we knew each other via Facebook and Skype before we actually met.
Some people I remember far too much. I can tell you what they were wearing, where they were standing, how they were standing, where they sat during the meeting and most of what they said to me. Or, the jist of it. It’s a curse of a photographic memory – you can remember what it looked like, what it felt like but not what it sounded like. It’s annoying at times because I so, so want to remember what some people said at certain moments. See! I do have reasons for liking to have fights over texting or Messenger.
Anyhoo… it’s been a great year and I am reminded of that wherever I go. Yes, I remember the bad moments too. But the good ones? Those are the ones when you remember as you’re walking into the Union, they hit you and you just have to stop and say “Wow. Life is kind of awesome.”