Thank you!

I know some people wish to re-count/relive or somehow re-enliven their H.S. years. But... those are ones if I had to forget I would rather. I don't have to let them fade from memory. I don't have the memories. I can't remember and I have been in counseling as an adult... and that counseling does emcompass for the dx of PTSD, layers and layers.

I've not been to any H.S. reunion and I doubt I'd go even if I received a gold-embossed invite.

The last I remember of that day: My friend reached into a paper lunch bag; he pulled out a sandwich and an apple and, then, a handgun. I heard another classmate tell him, "Don't do it!" It was too late . Our teacher's screams is the last memory I have of that day.

Who would want to be so young again? Not I. No thank you .

Someone just let me have a veranda and a white wicker rocker and plenty of Heavenly Blue morning glories, and I'll be content with just being where I am at whatever stage my life reaches to rock myself in contentment.