Rainy days seem to make my mind wander back to the past

I wish I knew why rainy weather makes me feel nostalgic.

It has been raining almost every day lately, ever since the not-quite-a-hurricane came through last month, and that's dangerous for me. I tend to look with a little too loving eye at the past, even though at least two-thirds of my memories prior to a certain age tend to be about things that didn't work out.

One thing I find strange is how few people there are in my life who knew me before I was 40 years old. If it weren't for Facebook, there would be even fewer. Facebook put me back in touch with many of the people who were on the staff of my college newspaper when I was editor-in-chief. These are people I doubt I ever would have seen again if not for Facebook, and some of them are people I am very happy to be back in contact with.

Photos, too. I would never have seen this one without Facebook. I'm the guy in the back, just 31 years old and without a gray hair on my head. The picture is courtesy of my good friend Tara Hagenbrock Johnson, the young lady in the front. I could always make her laugh.

The hidden face right in front of me is someone I have known ever since we started dating in February 1980. There were times it almost worked out for us, but both of us are happily married now (to other people, of course) and I'll just remember Lisa fondly. If I ever get hit with Alzheimer's, she'll be one of the last people I forget.

But other than family members, there are very few people in my life who knew me as far back as high school. Mick Curran and Bill Madden, my two closest lifelong friends, go back a long way. I met Mick when I was 15 and Bill when I was 23, and I still know both of them 40-plus years later.

That matters to me. I have other friends who go back to high school, but they aren't people I have been in regular contact with. Before I remarried in 1992, I used to talk on the phone with Bill once a week or so, but marriage and two kids don't leave much time for that.

As for Mick, the 20 years I lived in Los Angeles were good ones. We talked, got together occasionally and played golf together maybe once a month. Now that I live in Georgia, that sort of ended.

Who do I talk to more than anyone else? Except for my wife, of course? It's my amazing daughter Pauline, through the magic of Skype. Whether she has been in Beijing, Indonesia or Jamaica, Pauline has made the effort to call us every weekend so that we can get to know our grandchildren.

She is an incredibly impressive person, balancing a high-powered career and a family and doing well at both of them. I cannot imagine a better daughter, and along with the Skype calls, she is always posting photos on Facebook so that we can keep track of Madison and Lexington, our two New York avenue grandchildren.

As much as anyone else, Pauline is the one who keeps me anchored in the present. It's tough to be nostalgic when I'm thinking about a grandson who won't be 2 years old till November.

But there are other people who are Facebook friends who were important people in my life more than 40 years ago and who I haven't seen since.

One thing good about it is that you get to see how things turned out.

Who got old, who didn't.

Who did well, who didn't.

Things that are, after all, nice to think about on rainy days.