Halfsies

I called my dad last week to catch him up on life in West Lafayette as I wandered to my last class as a sophomore in college. I told him I still feel like a freshman the day him and mom dropped me off at school. I asked how how it is that I’m already halfway through my time here? I told him it’s like I just arrived.

There’s a different taste to this year, that’s for sure. With three days left, no more to do but study, go on pink walrus runs and start to pack, I stumbled upon Back To Then by Waylon Wyatt and you know, sometimes music just does us justice. Certain songs put our snowglobe of thoughts into words that perfectly sum up our hearts. And this song sure does for me.

“But if there was a fountain of youth, you’d find me splashing around, ‘cause these years are flying, I can’t hold ‘em down.”

I saw pictures today of me in May before my freshman year of college and I tried to remember what it felt like. I was so excited. So excited for life ahead and new opportunities. I was trying to savour up what I had and where I was, but ready for growth, for more.

After another year of college, I haven’t figured it all out. Maybe I was expecting to, like getting older is supposed to get easier, but age just keeps on teachin you more lessons. This year I have rejoiced and rehearsed and been drug back to the depths of grief. I’ve smiled and sang and learned that friends don’t always stick around. I have become more confident in my career path while asking myself some days if God is still there.

Changes and moving time always seem to pull me back to places and seasons I once lived - and I wonder how the lovers of change jump into it like a leaf gets pulled into the wind. When I look back on my sophomore year and all the seasons before, it makes me sad to know I won’t go back to them, but what a blessing it is to look back so fondly on memories and have a reason to miss them so much.

(currently writing this I feel like it has such a sad undertone and I wish it was happier but I don't believe in writing fake feelings to paint a perfect picture of life, rather I try to write to paint an honest picture)

When I pack up to leave this year behind, I’ll be leaving with much. Forever I will keep the memory of sledding down Slayter instead of going to class, shoulder shaking for yummy food, crying laughing on the floor of 216 with the best big sis, collecting flower vases, coming back to a desk with sweet notes, flights and drives to new places, a hot-honey bagel creation, failed denpop flavors, terrible die skills, frat packing the bug, dancing early into the morning, a full Theta front porch, prayer circles in St. Louis, card games with old friends, moving in with 90 girls, getting an A++ on my last chem exam, the sunshine hitting the tops of trees and buildings on campus during early morning walks to class, chest bumps in the hallway, fire alarms in the middle of the night, early morning tea + bible time with Reag getting ready for the day, racing to Crumbl in a camaro before its close, TSITP watch parties, parking tickets, fountains, piano playing and reunions, dancing in barns, and new mexican restaurants, addy’s birthday jeep ride, and a colorful 5k.

I think I’ve decided that being halfway done with college doesn’t mean much in my attempt to figuring anything out and trying to hold onto it isn’t going to last. But its close does mean that God was faithful to me in another year of life, learning, and friendship. My heart is filled because He is the perfect gift giver. In the stickiness of sadness; feeling like time is slipping through the cracks, God is still here. That’s a happy ending.

Dad used to tell me he believed in luck until he met God. Then he believed in blessing. It’s not how lucky am I? It’s how blessed am I to experience life, to write about it, to reminisce, to enjoy it (the rollercoaster of days, emotions, and liaisons).

And so, halfway through we are.

Matthew 5:3-10

Best,

Meg