I was thinking about how much things have changed. I was thinking about all those precious girls at our last church and thinking how much they’ve grown up. I was thinking about how time has moved on, how we’re no longer seeing each other, how we’ve grown apart because of time and 60 miles. The change. And our dear cousins; the two kids I was closest with for most of my childhood. We’re all very different now. We’re going down different paths. We dress differently, we talk differently; we’ve changed. Everything has changed.
But the memories are still there. I still remember running through the corn maze at Young’s Farm with my cousins, screaming, shrieking, laughing together before going on a hayride. Happy faces, giggles, hay sticking to our pant legs, the world being a simple place. I still remember racing across the green belt in my long skirt, playing Freeze Tag with my church friends. The hard and heavy breathing, the grabbing of hands, the shrieks of laughter; a sense of peace as a Sunday’s sun set in the west and our gang of church kids dragging back up the street for much needed water.
I never see my cousins or old church friends anymore.
But I still have the memories. They’ll always be there and they’ll never change . . .