This past weekend, I went away with my six college roommates. We shared a house, two different houses actually, our junior and senior year of college. All these years later, we still have one to two reunions per year, which is pretty amazing since we are now spread out through the Midwest, with one outlier in California, and we have complex logistics to coordinate to make it happen. It’s been nearly twelve years since we left the invincible world of college and began our pilgrimage through adulthood. Through the years, we’ve held hands and continued to live life together across the miles.
This year, they tell me I am different; I’ve grown, I’m stronger, I take more risks, I have more dreams. (All good things–take that cancer!)
These girls came alongside me at a defining point in my life. We bonded, we talked in the wee hours, we processed life’s mysteries and challenges, we laughed–oh, we laughed. We simultaneously, yet separately, evolved to be Who We Are. I can look at the thirty-four-year-old versions of my twenty-two-year-0ld friends and tell them they they are still true. True to themselves, true to God, true to all that we believed and idolized when we were young and worry-free. It takes more guts to be bold and grateful and hopeful and kind after twelve years of living as a grown-up. But that’s what we are, we seven, we are bold, grateful, hopeful, and kind. They make me give more and take less in the world–and that’s not something that comes easily.
I know that no matter what comes next, they’ll be holding my hands while I do it. And I’ll be holding theirs.