stories about memories

daylight savings.

weird things make me miss the good days of youth group.
for instance. just now i was googling when we set the clocks back, and it’s the first weekend of november.
the farm retreat used to be the first weekend of november.
we would always try to keep talking until 2 am, so that we could claim it as 1 am, and the adults wouldn’t say we needed to go to sleep.
i LOVE farm retreats. i love ridge haven too, but i’ve been there more. i miss the farm. plus it was almost always warm there since we went in the fall(aside from that one year when we were playing sardines, and lynette and elizabeth and melanie were hiding, and we were looking for EVER and it was freezing, so we finally all went inside and got hot chocolate and left them outside), and i hate how cold it is at ridge haven.

it still makes my heart hurt a little bit every time one of those stories drops in my head. but as with everything, i’m getting used to it. i’m getting back to where happy memories are the first ones to come to mind(although “back to” doesn’t quite count…it used to be that i had only happy ones).

i’m pretty sure i’ve never been happier than i was my last two years of high school. ever. a couple of times come close(camp 2010, my first few weeks at ciu, and the day after my 20th birthday), but i’m not counting on ever matching them.

i have a box with youth group memories in it. on sunday nights i would take out a little card and write down what i wanted to remember that happened at church and put it in there. i can’t remember if i had a planned time to open it when i was first starting it up. i wasn’t purposely making a time capsule or anything; i think i was just too lazy to journal.
but now i’ve decided that when i get to the point where i can think about that church without getting angry or sad and just remember the best years of my life that i had there, i’ll look in it that day. because good memories with sucky ones hovering on the edges are just as bad as sucky memories with good ones around the edges. i figure when the sucky ones don’t hurt anymore, i’ll enjoy the good ones better.

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