As soon as I step into Hartsfield International airport from the plane, I am on autopilot. I walk to the car rental counter with my carry on and after going through the necessary hoops, drive the rental car to my best friend's house.
At Maria's house, the memories begin to merge into my conscious. The memories drift slowly, gently from the recesses of my mind. They niggle my conscious with awareness.
I am not sure when but at some point, somewhere in the middle of batting practice with my godson, Austin; playing Thomas the Train with his sister; talking to my friends, or drinking coffee in the morning while Austin plays his X-Box, the memories fully take over my senses.
Everywhere I look is a place I've touched before. I am overwhelmed. I am flooded.
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