Where have the last 27 years gone? Like for real, where have I been for the last two and a half decades? When I got a notification on Facebook that my 10 year high school reunion was coming up, several thoughts rushed into my head but mainly, I began to question whether or not I had made good use of the different seasons of my life. I think I did okay.
The last few months I’ve spent extended periods of time at home with my parents. Instead of the occasional weekend once a month, I’ve stayed with them for at least the duration of a week. Much of that time, I wander my childhood bedroom finding treasures from my past. N’Sync dolls, marching band medals, yearbooks, love letters, endless photos and cheerleading accessories.
My teenage years were pretty awesome.
Last weekend I laid in my childhood bed and just thought back on the things I used to do in my room. The sights and sounds of years gone by in that room began to resurface.
N’Sync singalongs.
Late night phone calls to best friends.
Light sobs after a day of being bullied.
Performing songs on “The Chronic” album with my sister, and my mom crashing in demanding a reason why we were listening to drug dealing music.
Binge watching The Real World marathons.
Fussing with my sister.
Songs as performed by me and my squeaky clarinet.
A whirlwind of thoughts of how I envisioned my adulthood.
Pouting for not getting my way.
Prayers for better days.
I had an imaginative and eventful childhood. Contrary to popular belief, my recent days as an adult have been rather uneventful and I’m back to pondering my future just like I did as a child. What is my purpose? Am I honoring my gifts? Who am I? Am I living or merely existing? Am I making my parents proud? Will I succeed?
Most days I feel extremely invisible, only seen by those who know me. And I am perfectly okay with this. I don’t need a spotlight to solidify my existing. I living in solitude purposely. I have good friends in Charlotte, but friends cannot live for you.
Going home to see my family is the recharging I need. Time is so evident to me when I am home and my childhood memories always come to life. While my vacant bedroom is now silent, only occupied by relics of my past, there’s one thing that has never been silenced. Prayers coming from other areas of the house.
My mother has never ceased to pray for me. I didn’t know this until I was out of college, but she told me that while I was away from home, she would get up in the middle of the night and ask God for my covering. While I was out late at night doing what I should not have been, my mom was calling on our father. And I also learned my grandmother was doing the same, up until she passed.
[Tweet “You are nothing without a praying mother.”]Last weekend, I went out in downtown Greenville for an uneventful night to say the least. As I drove back home, I thought of all the times I ran around the city, enjoying my youth. Those times have calmed down completely. I looked around the city, and nothing seems the same. Some of the familiar faces and things I used to do have died out. Greenville, SC is a new destination occupied by a new wave of inhabitants. Often times, I feel like an outsider. The pulse has changed, for the better of course. Becoming an adult you realize things aren’t the same and never will be. Times are meant to change.
I incredulously pulled into my parents’ driveway thinking of how precious and cruel time could be. Things had changed and so had I. I walked in the house around 1:30 a.m. and I knew I had awakened my mother. As I tried to tip toe to my childhood bedroom, my mother appeared at the end of the hallway, gave me a hug, told me she loved me and went back to bed.
She was up like old times, praying for me.