Memories of the past three years float around in my mind. As I sort through the trying and sunny times, it’s almost impossible to put all my feelings into words.
There is heartache for the loved ones I’ve lost along the way. There is fright and frustration for the storms I’ve had to face.
There is embarrassment for all the silly things I’ve managed to do. There is love and gratitude for the kindness and encouragement my family and friends have given me.
There is a sense of accomplishment for sticking it through. And there are fuzzy, warm motions stirring inside today, and I can’t help but smile.
It’s hard to believe that 365 days have come and gone, but the day is finally here!
Today, there is a purple sunrise, and it simply feels like a dream.
I’m one year seizure free!
People come in and out of our lives constantly. Strangers become acquaintances. Acquaintances become friends. Some friends become part of our past, and the cycle begins again.
I spent the greater part of last week catching up with an old friend. Our last words were exchanged in August 2010. Four years later, we have picked up where we left off.
When people first part, we tell each other we will always keep in touch. Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. Months turn into years, and we sometimes fail to just say hello. When reunited, we renew the promise to keep in touch so updated numbers and addresses are exchanged.
I reflect on the passage of time and friendships. Just like many, I’ve successfully failed to send out a simple hello. I believe friendship doesn’t necessarily mean spending time or talking to someone on a day-to-day basis, but four years is far too long.
It’s important to invest time into any relationship. After all, when things are rough, friends help make things better. I’m thankful for my friends, both old and new. We shared a lot of tears and laughter. As I remember this, I will make sure time does not erase those memories. I promise to keep in touch. Will you?
It shouldn’t have taken me this long to realize that yesterday was National Sibling’s Day, but it did. I guess late is better than never. Here is something I wrote seven years ago. It’s about my twin sister. I did tell you I had one, right?
I’ve known my best friend my entire life, and not many people can say that. Throughout my 19 years, I have never been alone, not even once. You might be wondering, what do you mean? You’ve known your friend your entire life? My single response is yes. I am a twin. I am a double… fraternal…identical…whatever you would like to call it.
She and I have always been a pair. I with my long, thick black hair and tanned complexion. Her with her short, curly hair and rosy toned cheeks. I was the quiet one, shy and never open. She was loud, daring, and the color that brightened my world of black and white. I read books and played the piano. She sang at the top of her lungs and played outside with my brother. Different in all respects we were, but yet similar at the same time.
People always ask me, what is it like to be a twin? All I could ever say is, “It’s like knowing that no matter how far apart you are, you are never alone.”
As I attempt to digitize things I’ve written over the past years, I came across this entry I wrote a year ago. This is a flashback within a flashback. It’s a little piece of a great friendship that only happens once in a blue moon. Continue reading