It’s a tricky thing to play with the past. It’s one of the reasons families can be so dysfunctional and friendships are so important: families remember you as the person you evolved from (and likely don’t want to be anymore) but chosen friends further your evolution into your best and modern self.

My mother keeps a diary. Every day of life is on record from age 12 until now, 76. But it’s all from her perspective. Our fights from her POV. Our vacations. Our troubles. I don’t come across nearly as well as I believe I should. “Michael was complaining. Again. He’s always whining and miserable, bringing us all down.” Of course I was complaining! We were sweating to death in a pop up tent in the parking lot behind Circus Circus where it was 107° at 2am and Dad was still inside gambling but we ‘couldn’t afford’ the $19 for an inside air conditioned room!? See?… I’m still complaining.

My point is that I loved reading your rediscovery and these magical mirrors to our past don’t readily appear. You are lucky. And brave. And evolved in the best of ways.