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..: Another delayed memory report.
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One of my last wonderful experiences was the weekend before 9/11. We were driving to the wedding of Brian and Naomi. Brian has been a friend of Kj's since college. He's kind of a big, benign guy who looks a lot like Skippy from Family Ties. On the way to the wedding in Irvine, I had a revelation. I think I know him from somewhere, I tell kj. From like, a long time ago, but I can't remember when, or where. Through the night, I'm thinking about him. I realize that my family used to spend hours and hours at social events at his home in Hacienda Heights. I was, what, 10 years old? He has some brothers, a sister. They have a big house with a big living room, with wood panel walls and lots of empty space. Their backyard has rock-sculpted paths with wooden benches and a curvy, lit pool that nobody ever swims in. I remember being very uncomfortable everywhere dad took us when he used to take us places like that. Never knew how to act or be; I was just so insecure. I remember at Brian's house though, they had a TV that was on all the time, and soda pop. I could always drink that, and I'd feel better about being all the way out here. For who knows how long.

I also remember that Brian's family was kind. His mom has big hair and the biggest Chinese smile I had ever seen.

I remember the day that Brian or one of his siblings brought out a small die-cast toy of a Millenium Falcon. Or was it a Y-Wing Fighter? It was heavy, and I got to play with it that night. It was awkard, enjoying someone else's toy. It hadn't been taken care of, had little places where the paint was coming off, I think a piece was missing. Really bothered me, somebody had this nice toy and didn't take care of it. Also bothered me that Kenner made these things in the first place. It wasn't to scale with the action figures, and well, what's the use?

Many hours we spent there. Many. So yep, I recognize his entire family at the wedding. When Brian comes around our table at the reception, he pats me on the back really hard, gives me the Skippy smile. He's still taller than me. I say to him, almost secretly "Brian, I know you. And your family. Our family used to spend a lot of time with your family." He just smiled back and then said "I know." Weird. "Why didn't you say anything?" I ask. His answer wasn't verbal, but it must have been something like "It might have been weird for you." I tell him that I remember his family fondly. I hated those social events my dad dragged us to, but I remember that this family had something that seemed right to me, and I wanted that in my family too. He tells me that his siblings, his mom and pop, remember me too. I wonder what they remember about me, and my parents. I wonder if my dad envied their big house. I wonder if my mom envied their big loving family. I don't know. At the end of the night, I didn't go say hello to his folks, it would have been too weird.
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