Becoming Lost In The Memories Of A Long-Lost Best Friend
Some things are just never forgotten
As I sit in silence by my office window, I watch the falling snow gently kiss the glass pane. It is a tranquil scene that helps my mind begin to wander back to the days of old.
Overtaken by nostalgic memories of what once was, and will never be again.
It is at this moment that I think of her.
Missy, my long-lost childhood best friend.
Missy and I were always thick as thieves and went virtually everywhere together. The vast majority of my mixed-up and convoluted childhood was spent with her.
We loved to explore our natural surroundings.
Visiting the swollen and fast-moving creek that ran through our neighborhood. Testing the precarious banks in a quest to discover what new wonders nature would reveal on any given day.
Traveling to the family cottage in the summer and jumping head first into the crystal, clear lake. Furiously swimming our way out to the raft which sat like a solitary soldier in the distance. Beckoning us like a long-lost brother.
Playing together on the side of the road while nervously waiting for the dreaded, yellow school bus to appear.
