My Apology to Darcy Johnson

I wasn't the coolest kid I high school. You want evidence? I was on the literary magazine staff. We weren't cool enough for the yearbook staff, so we collected creative writing pieces from students to publish in an annual we called "Cento". I remember days and days of combing through submissions to choose the pieces we would eventually use. I particularly remember one poem, written by my good friend (to this day) Darcy. She is the daughter of an Air Force pilot. They were stationed in Montgomery from our 8th grade year until we graduated. I don't remember the whole poem, but I can vividly remember that it was about the smell of cardboard boxes, and the feelings that that smell evoked for her. I thought the poem was pretty dumb. A whole poem about a cardboard smell?

 Really?

 Now, as we finish pack out #3 in our Air Force adventure, I'd like to take this opportunity to publicly apologize to Darcy Johnson. The poem wasn't dumb at all. It was brilliant. And I totally get now how one singular smell of cardboard can make your emotions go crazy. The smell signals the beginning of a long process that has become all too familiar. Goodbyes, packing, living out of suitcases, traveling, unpacking, starting over. I get it Darcy. I get it now.

 Here we go again.......