history. the past.
it fascinates me.
i think that's why i like journaling so much.
i adore reading old stories from my grandparents, my parents.
today i was thinking about my college roommates, my best friends and how much they have done to shape the person i've become. i owe a lot to them.
it makes me think about the specific experiences that my parents and grandparents had.
and their parents and grandparents.
think about their friends and roommates and associates.
the times they had to come together to try to overcome.
the small little things that one of them said that made the world of difference to let them know that life would be okay, that they would make it through.
isn't it funny to think about the time your parents say "oh, we're going to see my old friend." and how much we dread it. i do at least. and pray that their kids aren't awkward and that we don't have to be forced in to making friends.
but now i think i'll appreciate it. appreciate the stories, just like mine, when they changed my life.
i'm so grateful for those people. for the difference they made.
sometimes i forget that i came in to the story part way through.
twenty-four years of experience my parents had had already. and here i was thinking i was the main event. they sacrificed everything to bring me here. even if i was a surprise.
not so much freedom and fun, but now a forever family.
but yet, that's all the freedom and fun we need.
i hope i'm willing just as my parents were.
their friends moved to the past as their children were made their forefront.
we didn't let them do everything they might have wanted, but they let us have every opportunity we needed to grow. we grew into their story and they shaped ours.