Relationship Riches

This morning, I was at my mom's house and grabbed some boxes from my old closet that I have been meaning to go through and clean out. Once I got home, I spent the afternoon sorting through them. It made me realize how crazy blessed I have been with getting to know some really amazing people along the way.

That has been the theme of my life lately: realizing the richness of relationship.

For years, my mom has bugged my Grandpa to write down some stories of his life in journals. Surprisingly, a couple months or so ago, he handed my mom a few notebooks. He had actually been writing down stories for years and no one knew. I read through them all twice. And each time, I was really taken aback with for one, the fact that my Grandpa is still alive (he served in a few wars and has insane stories from them), and two, how I wish that I would have been aware of the importance of listening to people and getting to know them when I was younger. When I went to the Philippines, I remember my Grandpa asking me a few times "Will you get to see such and such place?" or "Make sure you go to this place if you can." At the time, I didn't get it. No big deal. My Grandpa's just a history buff. I ignored all of it and didn't make one ounce of effort to go to any of the places he mentioned. Reading his journals, I finally got it. Now I know why those places are special and what they mean. And I wish I would have listened. To know that I was minutes from some of the places he mentioned, and didn't just go makes me kick myself. I was so close. I wish I had a photo to show my Grandpa and say "See, here I am at the same place you were fifty years ago." To be able to show that I listened, that I get it, that I understand a part of his past and where he comes from, and that we have this bond of knowing this place...but I don't because I just didn't listen. I didn't take the time to find out why he kept mentioning these places. I passed them off as irrelevant to me. Which, I'm sure is partially because I was 18, and let's face it, teenagers have stupid attitude. None the less, if only I would have known. And so now I tell myself not to let that mistake happen again. That when someone speaks, I need to listen.

My Grandma (other side now, my Dad's mom) was up cat-sitting while my Dad and step-mom were on vacation, so Jesse and I asked her if she wanted to meet up for dinner one evening, and when we got to talking, I realized that I didn't even know what town she grew up in. I didn't know anything about where she came from and what made her who she is, so I asked. And it was probably some of the best conversation I've ever had with my Grandma. And I realized, once again, what valuable relationships I have in my life right now that I just normally pass off.

And I wondered...what would life be like now if I had been paying attention all those years before? I don't want to miss out anymore. Not just with grandparents, but pretty much everyone in my life.

So back to how I started this rant...the boxes from my old closet. Mostly, the boxes had photos and letters in them. Some made me laugh. Some made me cry, and honestly, some made me want to give them dirty looks and say "f*ck you". None the less, what stood out most to me was that in many cases, I didn't know what I had. I didn't realize how very blessed and special it was that people let me into their lives...and a lot of people let me in. And I wish I would have cherished it more. One great thing about travel is that I met a lot of amazing people. The bad thing about travel is that it's intense, and then it's over. Most of the people in my "boxes", I no longer keep in touch with, but I finally realize how rich my life is that I got to see a glimpse into their hearts, even if only for a short time. There's Amy, who actually believed I was the patient, forgiving and loving one during our friendship, when it was actually quite the contrary. There's Dustin, who had a way of simultaneously freaking me out and making me feel nothing but warmth in my heart. There's Erik, who trusted me enough to tell me that he sometimes just wanted to die. There's another Eric who always believed in my innocence and seemed to want to protect me. There's Elizabeth who wanted to be around me and hang out even when I was incredibly rude and standoffish. Curtis, who had x-ray vision for seeing my every hidden evil motive that I would never admit to, yet still stayed my friend anyway. John, who watched me go from being a kid to venturing out on my own for the first time; his presence gave me courage. Angie, who taught me that who I am is perfectly okay, even though it's far from perfect. What strikes me the most though, is that I just don't get why these people were so good to me...why they trusted me with a part of themselves. I certainly didn't deserve it. But I'm thankful. I have this long, rich list of people who loved me into being who I am.

Today, I'm lucky that my list is dominated by Jesse, who simply feels like home; the best friend I could ever walk through life with.

So for everyone I've ever called friend, thank you.