Welcome the Future, Respect the Past

In September of this year, I attended my ten year college reunion in Santa Fe, NM (um . . . where exactly did those ten years go?). About a quarter of my class was there (which percentagewise is a great turnout and in a class of under 100, there were about 25 of us). I was struck by how much everyone was the same, how recognizable everyone was with some new layers and some old layers taken off from the passing ten years. I felt like I was looking at collegemates through rose colored glasses.

I had this same impression at the beginning of December during visits with two dear and old friends. Gillian was in the states from Australia for a conference and to see friends. Gillian and I lived in the same dorm freshman years and shared many good and hard times during college. For five days, we got to hang out together, make small trips around Colorado and enjoy catching up on the six years since we had seen each other in New York. Jen, who had been my best friend fifth grade through about sophomore year of high school and my gymnastics buddy, came over for lunch and some playtime with her daughter, Sydney. I had not seen Jen in over seven years, reconnected through Facebook (can I say again, what a thing Facebook is!), and found out she had moved to Denver this last summer. We were both overcome by surprise and excitement by this discover. We also enjoyed a time of reconnecting and catching up.

In most of my former classmates and close friends, I found a deeper sense of self and a better awareness of who they were and meant to be (not that we all have that big question figured out - heck, we're only in our thirties - just closer to it). I realized in being with Gillian and Jen and discussing our pasts what a poor friend I had been and what I had missed about myself but also that I may have been incapable of being anything other. As George Santayana wrote, "We must welcome the future, remembering that soon it will be the past; and we must respect the past, remembering that it was once all that was humanly possible." As with any close relationships, our histories, our family pasts, our deep wounds - only slightly discovered under the pretty facade - separated us and even while other important parts held us together. With Jen in particular, what an interesting clash our histories had. It feels important to make so many trips down memory lane, to look back with two who were such close friends and think about who I was so many years ago, what decisions I made, without judgement and with caring and listening hearts.

It was restorative to spend time with Gillian and Jen and to know them better now than I could before. It is restorative to see in myself how far I've come, that even (or especially) in darkness, God gives me strength to grow and light to grow in.