Hidden Influences

"Hey Morna! We are over here,"  My initial awkwardness subsided as my former student- now in her thirties called out warmly to me, and beckoned me to a big table nestled in the restaurant.  The people stood up one-by-one, some offering their hands to shake, other's hugging, each grinning their not so childlike smiles at me. The memories came back slowly at first, and faces I remembered clearly, while others not so easily.  For some it was the way their eyes crinkled, or their grins spread across their face, or even just how they tilted their heads to trip my memory.  Immediately, my brain was full of things I hadn't thought about in what seemed like forever.  I traveled back in time for that moment- to the nineties- when my hair was big and I listened to Nirvana and the Smashing Pumpkins.
   It didn't take long to love them again, enjoy them, listening their peals of laughter.  I marveled at their vivid recollections of things like our Greek Athens simulations, treks to the S.F.  Exploratorium, and even Outdoor Ed at the Marin Headlands.
   Amazed, I sit back to learn they attend each others weddings,  or hear one  respectfully ask about someone's parent, or even inquire about another classmate they have lost track of.
   How did this little micro family form?  Was I so busy teaching cursive, and long division that I never saw this happening?
    I didn't pay attention to anything on the road when I drove home that night. I was lost in thought.  I floated home.  I wanted to bottle that feeling I had that night for the rest of my life.   I would take that bottle and bury it deep in my satchel. I might pull the bottle out from time to time.
Just like Superman getting power from the sun.  For instance, I would bring it out during standardized testing, and take a deep whiff like a smelling salt.  "Ah, yes! (it will remind me) THIS is why I teach!"