Glimpse of the Past

Recently, for some reason completely unknown to me, probably a lapse of mental clarity, I decided to allow my boyfriend, Ryan, to journey through the past with me. That's right. I began reading my middle school diary aloud. To him.

What was I thinking?? Honestly, I still can't answer that question. And it haunts me. Night and day.

Actually, it wasn't too incredibly painful. It did bring up all those long dormant emotions of inadequacy, loneliness, frustration, and unrequited 'like'. Because, let's face it, it wasn't love in middle school. It changed monthly, sometimes weekly. I like Elliott. No wait, Ben. Oh he is so last week. Don't you know I like Jeff now? Keep up! A common theme threaded throughout my diary was how I had "no friends", which was true to some extent, but not exactly. I had a lot of friends, yet I didn't have any real close friends because this was a time when so many of them were choosing popularity over me. And I wasn't one to conform. I didn't hang out with people based on their social status. I was the one who would defend the nerd or eat lunch with the
'loner'. And those are the ones I'm still friends with today.

I also revisited a painful time in my life when I lost someone close to me. My papa (grandpa). I have been thinking a lot about life and death lately, having just lost one of my co-workers several weeks ago, so it was interesting to see my perspective on things back then and to compare it to now. I was actually a pretty smart kid. I recognized that my papa was in a better place because he was now with Jesus, yet I still mourned his loss. I rejoiced in the fact that I enjoyed 13 wonderful years with him, yet cried myself to sleep thinking about all the years he wouldn't be sharing with me, my nana, and my family. The graduations, weddings, great-grandchildren, and golden anniversary that he missed. I loved him fiercely and knew he would only want me to go forward, loving life, loving family and friends, and loving God as he did. It was definitely an interesting read. And my eyes filled with tears and voice cracked...just a hair...as I read that section. I had even saved the program from his memorial service and realized papa has 2 siblings I have never even heard of! Incredible! Definitely going to discuss that with my dad when I get the chance!

I also realized I have reached the point of healing over the loss of Greg at work. It is still sad to think about him being gone at such a young age. I didn't know him as well as I would have liked. I never worked closely with him, as I am not an architect, but I did have conversations with him at lunch, in the kitchen, or in the hall. He would come by my workstation and offer advice regularly. And I miss that. I miss his quiet presence and kind words. But I am also thankful for being touched by his compassion and gentle spirit, even if only for a brief period of time.

As my 8th grade self said: "The hole in my heart will heal, but will never fully recover." And to me, that is a good thing. A great thing. God is here. Always. Through the joy and the sorrow. And he heals. How amazing is that?