Ever since the big move, I've found myself longing for the depth in my friendships that they once held. The move has triggered this because its forced me to look through old boxes full of letters, photos and memories. It's inspired me to read everything handwritten, and recall each moment that every photograph captures. (Which would explain why 5 months later, I'm
still unpacking.)
A number of circumstances has naturally changed the depth-level that I hold with each of my friends. I find my relationships so different from my early twenties to my mid-late twenties (and most of them are the same friends). I think from living in a dorm with 300 of your closest friends and not having a 9-5 job; to facebook not existing and now just being an "adult" in general contributes to this. And I hate it.
For some reason, years after they happen, inside jokes, if they can be recalled, are not as funny anymore. And the "remember that time...!"s are lame. And I have always been one who has been addicted to these! (May explain my similiar addiction to scrapbooking?) I love telling stories of past adventures and laughing at crazy circumstances. And no better friend have I ever been able to do this with then Demi.
Demi. Where to begin. She is the most fun/funny person that I know. She's sarcastic, witty and honest. I met Demi my freshman year of college. She was living one floor below me. I knew that it was friendship at first sight when we were at the school cafeteria. She "drank" a bowl of the fish soup, (a Franciscan lenten special), and immediately announced that she had just drank a fish tank.
Our friendship quickly blossomed and we decided that we needed to join the school's study abroad program in Austria that following Fall. Once in Europe, we became roommates, plastered our walls with Kenny Chesney paraphernalia, and began our adventures. And every day was just that. It was the best semester of my life.
Demi transferred to a school back home after that. College was never the same for me, although I did make and maintain some incredible friendships. And presently, Demi and I live about 2 hours apart. Not far at all, except now we're adults and don't travel 6 hours round-trip for Subway sandwiches anymore.
The morning of my planned Divine Reunion number one...I decided to sleep in a bit to get some extra rest for the anticpated energy it was going to take later that day to catch up another friend on my life. Since it was Sunday, this meant going to a later mass. The 11 o'clock mass. On Palm Sunday. It was packed.
Our tiny church in our small town has its own tradition on Palm Sunday. After the opening prayer, people process to the altar to be handed a palm. Jim nominated me for the job.
As I did my processing, I did my usual "stare at the babies" while passing the cry-room. One particular baby caught my eye. His face...those eyes...that smile. I could almost swear the kid was about to mutter something about a fish tank. That's when I realized...that baby was the spitting image of Demi. It had to be hers! A further peak confirmed my suspicions. Demi, my long lost Austrian roommate, was at my church.
Our disruptive reunion almost merited us getting kicked out of the cry room. Most of her family was there and we enjoyed brunch after mass. It was a wonderful reunion. She had no idea that
that is where I lived, and I had none that she was traveling through the area.
And if it wasn't for Reunion I, none of this would have happened.
And if Reunion II hadn't happened, neither would our future plans for a birthday wine festival celebration.
"He knows the deepest desires of your heart." 1 Chronicles 28:9
