For whatever reason, I've been plagued by memories the past few days. Not as in sad memories, just random events that I remember. Two in particular.
In the first, I couldn't have been more than 8 or 9. I think 8 sounds about right. Someone at our church must have had cancer or some other terminal illness, because my mom went to this man's apartment to help straighten and organize and seperate things out (my mom always used to do stuff like that when I was younger). We were still in VA then. I remember that his apartment building was red brick. And it was sunny outside. I remember sitting on an avacado green couch and reading a book; I was never far from a book in those days. It was some little girl's ghost mystery book that used to be my mom's. It had a really musty old book smell. Or maybe that was the apartment. One of the two. When I finished the book, my mom sent me out to the playground to play. By myself. That was nothing new. I always played by myself, since my brothers never included me. But that day, it was just me, so playing by myself was fun. It was sunny. There were no other kids playing. I don't think any kids lived in the complex. There were swings. I loved swings. The playground faced the building, which had exterior corridors, and was seperated by parking. Off to the side was a slightly wooded areas with a drainage "creek". The provided much amusement for the morning. The "woods" were covered in pineneedles. All dead. My mom checked on me once. I only saw the man once. He was old. And sick. And probably about to die.
The other memory is quite different. A year and a half ago, I found myself coming home form my Chattanooga/Atlanta/Charlotte trip early to go to a church picnic on Jordan Lake. I had to play in the youth v. Deacons/Elders frisbee game (youth won). The (mostly) high schoolers grabbed a table off to the side, away from everybody else, to eat. I had Bo's. We played the cup game. Alex did his impersonation of Faith Hill. Somewhow, everyone else got roped into playing a Jessica-and-Walt-created game; I knew better than to get involved. But everyone headed off to the beach, so I followed. I found myself sitting on a log with Lindsay, Drew and Daniel Hostetler. I think there were two guitars between the four of us. Drew and I were (surprise, surprise) in the midst of a huge fight. Maybe the biggest we've ever had. Lindsay and I were having issues as well. And I din't know Daniel too well then. But I wouldn't have changed the people for anything. It was perfect. Late afternoon. We took turns hogging the guitars. Our friends were yelling in the background as we listened (or ignored, in some cases) intently to each other play. At one point, Daniel looked up and said "Y'all...my mom's having a BABY!". Seeing as she was VERY (like, 7 months) pregnant at the time, it wasn't news to anyone. It just seemed to hit him at that moment. It was that kind of atmosphere. After that evening though, we went our seperate ways. Daniel and I hung out some the rest of that summer and into the beginning of the school year. He used to ask me for rides home or just give me that goofy grin the hallway until he got too cool for me. I never see him anymore. Lindsay and I are still good friends, but we hardly see each other. I saw her yesterday at the Trinity basketball game and she commented that we haven't done anything just the two of us since New Year's last year. I don't see much of Drew either, except when I'm going to see his plays. So I dunno. It's not like that afternoon bound us with an unbreakable bond or anything. It was just perfect.
- thoughts provided by Katey Orr @ 4:21 PM