hmmm

So I was going to write a rather personal blog about something that has become all too apparent to me in the last few years, but I think I've just decided to leave it alone. I will, however, divulge the topic, if not a teaser, for maybe it will elicit some opinions...(based on the feedback/comments this blog gets, probably not).

I am an immigrant. My parents took the bold step of uprooting our family and moving to a new country, with a completely different culture, not to mention climate. My siblings and I were between the ages of 13-16, probably some of the most formative years of one's life. I left behind strong bonds and what I thought were lifelong friends. I'm not sure how to describe it, but the significance of those friendships grew in my mind - I felt connected to those people, and reflected often on the good times we shared. Perhaps I over-idealized these friendships. And even though in the end, distance ultimately killed most of them, I still until recently felt, perhaps naively, that I was an important part of their lives. That if I were to meet up with them again everything would return to normal. I have come to realize that this is not the case. People grow older and move on, and many years of solid, meaningful friendships like many things can be undone with a little bit of time and a lack of effort.

Alas, I have come to realize that if their existence was a book I am more of a footnote than a chapter. Am I saddened a little by it? Yes. Perhaps. However in a way it is precious. It locks up my brilliant childhood in a tidy package. A package that I will no doubt revisit often in the years to come.