Nostalgia

The last time I had a passport photo taken, I was 19 years old. After my husband took some photos, he showed them to me. My first reaction was, man, I look old. Honestly, when I look in the mirror, I don't see myself as old. In fact, I see places in my image which are more beautiful than they were to me a decade or two ago. Are they actually younger? Of course not. But the perception of myself has changed, and that's a good thing. I also have to remind myself. The 19-year-old in my last passport photo did not live abroad for a year away from close friends and family. She didn't get married. She didn't experience two pregnancies and two beautiful babies. And she didn't find her dream job yet. I prefer the woman in the photo who looks "old" because she has experienced so much more out of life.

I put off renewing my passport for years and years. I had even filled out the paperwork once only to put it aside, forget about it, and not do it. I not only needed to renew my passport but I needed a name change. It expired during Covid and there was no pressing need to renew because nobody was traveling internationally with two young children anytime soon. For the longest time, I also did not want to send them my marriage certificate. Would they treat it delicately like I do? Of course not. To them, it's a piece of documentation - a piece of paper with the right information on it. To me? It was the beginning of a new life.

Renewals must be done within five years of the expiration. Otherwise, it will count as a new passport application. I was just under the limit so this was the year to get it done. I filled out the forms, took a photo, sent them my old book as well as my marriage certificate and taped up the envelope.

Believe it or not, there was no line at the post office when I went to send off my renewal. I smirked when I pulled up to the parking lot. 13 years ago, I bet a friend there was a post office at this intersection. He didn't believe me because he knew there was one at the next major intersection - which is true, there is. But, I was also right. There was one at this intersection and when he saw it, he was in disbelief the city would build two post offices one major street away from each other. I don't remember what I won, but the same location is still there after all these years.

It's the same post office my grandparents would go to when they lived here. That's how I knew it existed. I'd been many times with my grandfather running errands, back in the day when bills needed to be paid with a check and mailed off with postage. And here I was, driving with my son, to the very same post office my grandparents used when they lived here. 

As a teenager, the thought of returning to where we grew up felt boring. We wanted to go somewhere else, explore, be adventurous. And if we were lucky, we didn't come back. On the other hand, returning to where we grew up was the easy choice. We knew everything here. We knew people. We knew the streets. We knew the stores. 

Being an actual adult and in the same city where I grew up and went to school, it's a different feeling. It's actually nostalgic and nice. Are there times when it's boring? Yeah. But I can drive familiar places and be reminded of memories - mostly good - and share them with my children. 

There's a donut shop across the street from the post office I went to. In high school, I skipped class exactly one period one time in 12th grade. It was 2nd period, my statistics class. Three of us (from all different classes) went to this donut shop and ate donuts and chatted in the middle of the morning. I would have forgotten about this memory had I not been at the post office across the street. Nothing special happened that morning. We all ended up back at school for 3rd period. But being at this post office was able to bring back that memory for a little bit. 

The elusive post office I've known about for longer than most apparently.

The donut shop is no longer there. It's occupied by some other business now. But this post office still stands in the same spot. And my son got to come with me.