Whatever happened to..?
Do you ever wonder what happened to that kid in fifth grade who ate post-it notes? Because I do.
Do you ever lie awake at night, stare blankly at the ceiling, and wonder “Whatever happened to that one person?”
I do. All the time.
It’s a fun pass time: Whatever happened to that elementary school teacher, horrible ex-boyfriend, back-stabbing high schooler, or middle-school crush that I was too scared to talk to? The people I had liked live happy little lives in my head, traveling the world, living in big homes with fluffy dogs & perfect spouses, and working their dream jobs. The people that hurt me have less glamorous story lines, but hey - that’s what happens when you drop such an awesome friend (by which, of course, I mean me)… Right?
I kid… Mostly.
What about you, reader? Who do you still wonder about? I’ve met a lot of people in my life, but there are particular individuals that just stick in my memory, hiding in dark little crevices at the back of my mind. It’s as if these people are chewed-up pieces of gum that I squished under a table and left there for years - only to be rediscovered one day as immobile masses that I simply cannot scrape away.
I eventually realized that there must be some reason these people stick with me and others don’t. I thought about it (harder than I probably should’ve) and I think I figured it out. For me, the stuck-in-my-mind people are the people who taught me the most about life - the people who, for better or for worse, taught me something valuable.
For your entertainment (and an exercise in vulnerability), I’ve listed here a few of the people that I regularly wonder about, with a song that brings back memories of each of them (side note here: isn’t it amazing how music can remind you so clearly of a time in your life?!):
First up is my high school physics teacher, a good man who loved the Lord and worked like a dog to support his family. This man woke up at 3 AM to work a second job at the local YMCA to feed his five children and send them to an overpriced Catholic school. I swear he never slept. He taught me what unconditional love looks like, but he also taught me that taking care of yourself is truly vital to reach your greatest working potential.
The best friend I lost contact with in high school. Her stepdad died and she couldn’t bear to see me anymore - I was the person who’d been around as she walked through the final dark stages of his illness, and my presence brought her too many sad memories. This girl made me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever met, before or since. She taught me the transformative power of Christ, but she also taught me the importance of surrounding myself with good people who will continue to point me towards Him. Her life hasn’t been easy, but she still makes life fun.
The homeschool boy I had a crush on at fifteen, who taught me that not everything works out the way you dreamt it would, but that doesn’t mean the dreams weren’t special or real. He thought (and probably still thinks) he meant a lot less to me than he did. He taught me to verbalize my feelings. He taught me that not communicating the things in my head can hurt others. He taught me to laugh a little more, live a little freer, and love God a little more. Lots of song memories for this one, but Wagon Wheel and Renegades take the cake:
The first boy who broke my heart. My first love, who taught me to take everything a little less seriously when you’re still a kid. I took us way too seriously, and I made some decisions I regretted. But I learned. Sometimes I wonder how he’s doing now. From the bottom of my heart, I sincerely hope he’s well - I hope he’s found the love he deserves. It’s cheesy, but Eastside most reminds me of him:
There are many more, but if I keep writing, I’ll be here forever. I’m not exaggerating - everything important I’ve learned came from others, and I’ve learned a lot of important things.
Anyways, I think about these people sometimes. I miss them a little, and then I don’t. It’s an odd nostalgic feeling; I love the memories, I want to relive many of them, and yet, it’s good they’re in the past. It’s where they belong.
A great song, because it just fits here:
But, in all seriousness, when I get to thinking about these people, I wonder, “Whose mind am I stuck in?”
Inevitably, this leads me to the question that really haunts me:
“What lessons did I teach them?”
I desperately hope I taught good ones.
<3 <3 <3