Threads

Sometimes, you don't realize you're missing something until you find it: love that makes your heart beat again; the feeling that comes from re-connecting with old friends; that old, silver hoop earring under the couch that you thought was in your jewelry box all along.

With each conversation I had with old friends at this weekend's High School Reunion, I was taken back to my youth; the memories and stories we shared are colorful threads connecting my past to my present. Every grade school crush, every high school party, every sport or instrument I played or cheer I ever yelled are all stitches woven deep and strong into my soul's quilt. The re-connections, the remembering, the sharing of stories had been missing for me, and I didn't even know it.

I needed to hear my friends' versions of events past, and compare them to my own. I needed to hear their voices to remind me how much things remained the same. I needed to remember, with them, people who we'd lost. I needed to feel tethered, ever so briefly, to the experiences that shaped me so long ago.

Driving the three hours home to Chico from the Bay offered more time for reflection. I wondered about each of my friends. Had they accomplished what they'd wanted to in life so far? Have they found peace amidst the storms that've hit all of our lives over the last 30+ years? Have they found joy? Then I turned the questions inward: Have I done the things most important to me? Have I found peace despite life's shit storms? Joy? My answers are as varied and colorful as the threads that make me whole.

Finding a few of my missing pieces this weekend has filled my heart and re-sparked my gratitude for all I have. Thank you, friends--new and old--for continuing to shape my life. I can only hope I'm becoming the best version of myself.