Tuesday, September 6, 2016
The things you miss.
They're not the things you might once have thought.
Of course you miss the people, more than anything else... more than you thought possible when you left.
But it's tiny moments that make you catch your breath.
It's driving through town and being pelted by memories both joyous and terrible everywhere you look... the jewellery shop where you bought your best friend a gift in some tiny attempt to thank her for holding your hand through the darkest days; the hospital where you watched your son go under a general anaesthetic and held your breath for over an hour just wanting this one thing to go well for him; the shopping centre you spent so many hours wandering through with small children; the cafe where you went on a date with some guy and talked for hours, this guy who meant you'd never go on a date with anyone else after that and who now holds the space with you as you await a new life created together.
Even all this time later those memories flood in along with so many others, but they aren't the ones that squeeze your heart the tightest.
Those are at the lake, along the rail trail, throughout the roads of the small town you lived in.
Those are the memories of endless hours on your feet walking, running, training for the events that shaped your weeks and gave you a sense of purpose in a time filled with confusion.
Those are the memories of becoming the person you'd secretly hoped you could be, and remembering that actually she was part of you all along.
Every time I go back it is harder and easier. Every time I wonder how it feels so much like home when I was there for such a short time. But it does, I guess because there is so much of myself left all over the town and on the trails and around the lake, just waiting for me to come back and claim it again.
One day perhaps. One day.
Labels: grateful stuff