October 2003

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I went archive-surfing this afternoon, to see what had been on my mind on October 12 the past three years.

In 2000, the entry was the third of a three-part series about my mother's first stroke and how that changed my life. The first of those entries is here.

Two years ago I wrote on UNC-Chapel Hill's University Day and the sound of Tar Heel voices ringing clear and true (as the song says), after being inspired by an article in the Daily Tar Heel. The link to the article still works, by the way. And freedom of speech is still very, very much alive and well in Chapel Hill.

And last year, I was dealing with the aftermath of my flooded apartment, and wrote of feeling sorry for myself. I am glad the flood wasn't worse than it was.

Which brings us to this year. I'm wandering down memory lane, back to 1973, and the first date with the man I spent my college years loving. It was a lovely, wonderful time, and the beginning of a relationship that I recall with great fondness. I have said before (most recently here, quoting an earlier entry) of this man that he was a rare jewel, and that he convinced me I was worthy of being loved.

The thirtieth anniversary of such a wonderful beginning is definitely worth noting. The trip down memory lane has been most pleasant.