The Life that Once Was

I don’t know if it is proper English or not, or if someone has used this phrase before, but right now the phrase that is on my mind is “the life that once was”. It is funny how some days life here in a rural east African village seems so normal to me, so common place, every day, nothing special; yet other days I am struck by the oddity of life here. Tonight after bathing I dug around in my bag for a pair of socks, and found a warm gray pair. Immediately my mind was crowded with memories of my life before Ug, the life that once was.

My mom and dad bought me the neatest socks for Christmas, just before I left- it was a three pair set, one purple polka dots, one purple, white and gray striped, and one warm gray pair. I wore my socks many times before leaving, and then packed them in my bags to bring to Ug. Holding the long, warm socks in my hands tonight I remembered watching meteorites on the roof with a few friends, my going away party in Tucson, and British movie nights with the girls. I remembered how much I loved wearing my favorite pair of jeans, these socks, and ballet flats everywhere I went. I remembered painted toenails.

All these memories flashing through my mind made me a touch homesick, but in a good way. Good memories of the life that once was. I wonder if in the future, some innocuous object will flood my being as I remember my first year here in Ug, what then will be “the life that once was”.