Monday, December 19, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
6 years
When you get older you have the ability to look back on times in your life and realize that certain small events, little things that you didn’t know at the time were some of the most important moments in your life.
During my first year of University I was living in tiny dorm room at school that I had gone to not knowing anyone. Part of my nightly ritual was to call my high school friend living in a similarly small dorm room at the University of Edmonton. Almost every night for a whole year we would share the sordid details of our 19 year old lives; school, friends, boys, awkward moments (there were many) weight gain, nearly everything. She was my reminder of home, my sounding board, someone to share dreams of the future with.
A few years later we met up in our hometown when I was back visiting my parents and she had moved back after a teaching stint. We drove around aimlessly, went to the places we used to hang out in high school and talked about life since University. It was during that drive that she told me that she had applied to a program to teach in Ghana. I used to have daydreams where I talked her out of going and everything ended up different, but of course I didn’t and things ended up the way they did.
Now it has been 6 years and so much has changed. The hardest part isn’t that just that I miss, although I do and it is that she would have been great at so much. She would have been a great mom. She would have been a great wife. She would have done so many things if given the chance. I remember the dreams she told late at night all those years ago and it isn't fair that she never got to act on them
And I miss those calls, my goodness do I miss those calls.
During my first year of University I was living in tiny dorm room at school that I had gone to not knowing anyone. Part of my nightly ritual was to call my high school friend living in a similarly small dorm room at the University of Edmonton. Almost every night for a whole year we would share the sordid details of our 19 year old lives; school, friends, boys, awkward moments (there were many) weight gain, nearly everything. She was my reminder of home, my sounding board, someone to share dreams of the future with.
A few years later we met up in our hometown when I was back visiting my parents and she had moved back after a teaching stint. We drove around aimlessly, went to the places we used to hang out in high school and talked about life since University. It was during that drive that she told me that she had applied to a program to teach in Ghana. I used to have daydreams where I talked her out of going and everything ended up different, but of course I didn’t and things ended up the way they did.
Now it has been 6 years and so much has changed. The hardest part isn’t that just that I miss, although I do and it is that she would have been great at so much. She would have been a great mom. She would have been a great wife. She would have done so many things if given the chance. I remember the dreams she told late at night all those years ago and it isn't fair that she never got to act on them
And I miss those calls, my goodness do I miss those calls.
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