Blast from the Past

Today I found a picture taken in my classroom during my second week of teaching. I could not stop staring at it. I look like a baby, innocent with this huge smile (probably induced a bit by trying to cover up my huge amount of shock.) I can't believe the picture is only four years old. It's not that I look old now, but that I look like an adult. In this picture I look like a college kid.

I don't think I've ever been so struck with a feeling of "This is me before...everything." This picture is before any real teaching experience, before my Masters degree, before what was (hopefully) the worst tragedy I will face in my life, before meeting Alan, before the birth of my niece, before so much. And there's something about the photo that I love, as if somehow as long as the picture exists so does the innocence I possessed at that time. But there's also something very strange because I feel like I've time-traveled and come face-to-face with myself, and realized it's not me at all.