From Me To You

People have always known who I am. As the daughter of the local vicar (minister) I was never anonymous. There was not one period of my childhood that was not remarked over and scrutinized and that can be challenging. knowing my business. But it is all I have ever known. Perhaps that is why I left home and travelled across continents and oceans at 18. Perhaps it was just the push I needed. Whatever the reason, after more than 20 years in the background, I find myself reluctantly back in the public eye as an adult. From Me To You...

At the age of 14 we were all allowed to decide if we wanted to attend church anymore. So of course we all quit on our birthdays. What teenager wouldn’t rather stay in bed on a Sunday morning than get up, get dressed and sit on an uncomfortable pew in a cold church for what seemed like hours? The horror of having to explain that to every single parishioner had us all scurrying back to services within a week.

Our public personas were compounded and somewhat elaborated on because my father routinely made his sermons about us and the religious lessons the parish could learn from our blunders. There was the time when my boyfriend left the house by performing a wheelie on his motorbike, the time we destroyed a clock, the horror of my excruciating trip down an unvarnished wooden slide... I forget the lessons but remember the mortification of everyone

Notoriety is a strange thing. Being the publishers of our local magazines awards my husband and myself a small amount of notoriety. This means that trips to the supermarket can take over two hours, a quick stop at the gas station becomes a lengthy chat. It can be a problem, but not for the reasons you might think.

There is a condition called Prosopagnosia or face blindness where you do not remember people’s faces. You can remember the person but have no idea who they are. I am not saying that I have this condition but I certainly have problems placing people.

I have been in situations where I have known someone for many, many years, I can tell you where they grew up, their favorite dessert and how we met. But their name? Nope. Completely blank. Sometimes it helps if they are in the same place as last time. If I meet my child’s teacher at school I can usually get it right - but bump into them at the supermarket and I am at a loss. I have attended many a corporate holiday party where about 15 minutes into a conversation I remembered the person I was talking to and realized what an idiot I was making of myself.

So if I meet you in the cereal aisle, or we attend an event together please don’t take it personally if I say something idiotic to you like, “It is so nice to meet you!” Even if we have been to book club together for the last 15 years...

Catherine Uretsky Editor, Up The Hill Magazine info@estrellapublishing.com 623.594.9283