I don't know what it is about seeing them that fills in the erosions... the pieces that have forgotten so much. The familiar faces, laughs... the ease of being back to a place you know, with people who've known you before you became the person you are today.... it has an interesting healing effect...delicately hovering between the claustrophobia of the past and the distance of the present.
We grew up in a dusty town dappled with churches and cornfields. There was one Main street and no stoplight. Yet, it's amazing, how with just a visit every other year and emails and phone conversations in between, things can pick up like old times.
One friend has taken to the city, overlooking historic views from her studio balcony, and one has decided to drop a teaching career to be a microbiologist, while moving to the South just to try it out. And yet another, lives in the Northwest and spends her free time hiking, remodeling, cooking up local food, and wondering what crops she can fit into her backyard next year.
My old friends inspire me to not just settle. To realize what is possible coming from the same roots. And reflect on what I have (or haven't) accomplished... to understand that maybe I do have a "grass is greener" complex. To feel part of a group again.
We all shared frustrations of meeting like-minded couples in our destinations. I was the lucky one of the bunch, having relocated close to our college, and retaining many of those friends. How do we "find" people like us...
...
I remember sunny summer days at Jen's house. We were going to make paper....from scratch. Her dad had fashioned a screen for us to strain the fiber, and we spent HOURS working on it, just to have too-thick pieces that took forever to dry... Now both of us have such an interest in handmade things... in the creative... and I'll probably remember that summer forever.
I remember sleepovers at Kristie's, where we spent endless hours talking about the seemingly complex relationships with our boyfriends, who coincidentally, were in the same garage band.
Things change. Life moves on. And as much as we're glad not to be in that place anymore, there is part of me who longs for the familiarity. For the slowness. For a little bit of the same... just for a moment.
