It's time I acknowledge...

Nostalgia. I get waves of it when I think of home: late Friday nights in the barn braiding manes and goofing with Shelly before a horse show, endless Thursday night capture the flag games during bonfires after softball, family meetings and tupperware cereal bowls and watching Jeopardy at 3:30 after school with huge bowls of mint chocolate chip ice cream. I think of passing notes during Mrs. Behrenz's English class, putting on fashion shows, building extensive tents in Leah's basement, sneaking out of Krissy Grover's house to meet the boys sleeping over at Tim Mattes's house, homecoming and float building and filling up thermos mugs with hot chocolate from North dining hall at Notre Dame before heading to the stacks in the library. I think about yelling to Leah over the banana tree in my backyard in Zimbabwe and sitting on my favorite rock along the Lake Michigan shore in Milwaukee. And for the most part, all of the people who have mattered the most in my life are still somehow a part of my life. When I go home I will spend time with my family, I will stay in Chicago with Leah and stop in Milwaukee to visit Jenna and try to coordinate a drink with John while he's visiting his family. I will visit my grandma, I can stop in to see Shelly and maybe Leah if she's in Plymouth. I will go out to the Kelly Maloche's to ride Mac, and everybody who I can't see, I can still connect with on the telephone or via email at the very least.

So as I've shared my daily adventures, the nuances of Parisian life, my personal reflections, and stories about friends and family, there is one person who was such a huge, life-changing force in my life who simply hasn't been mentioned on this blog. And although it has been exactly 9 months now since I last saw him and since I severed the very ties that used to often keep me afloat, I have to acknowledge that in my nostalgic reflections, I often think about Germaine. The other day I heard a song and just swelled up; I just thought, "That was Germaine." I want to share the lyrics, because no matter what has happened and what will come, I realize that I was extremely blessed to have had somebody in my life who knew me and loved me in the very way that he did.

"Everything" by Alanis Morrisette

"I can be an asshole of the grandest kind
I can withhold like it’s going out of style
I can be the moodiest baby, and you’ve never met anyone
As negative as I am sometimes

I am the wisest woman you’ve ever met
I am the kindest soul with whom you’ve connected
I have the bravest heart that you’ve ever seen
And you’ve never met anyone as positive as I am sometimes

You see everything, you see every part
You see all my light and you love my dark
You dig everything of which I’m ashamed
There’s not anything to which you can’t relate
And you’re still here.

I blame everyone else, not my own partaking
My passive-aggressiveness can be devastating
I’m terrified and mistrusting
And you’ve never met anyone
As closed down as I am sometimes

You see everything you see every part
You see all my light and you love my dark
You dig everything of which I’m ashamed
There’s not anything to which you can’t relate
And you’re still here.

What I resist, persists, and speaks louder than I know
What I resist, you love, no matter how low or high I go

I’m the funniest woman that you’ve ever known
I’m the dullest woman that you’ve ever known
I’m the most gorgeous woman that you’ve ever known
And you’ve never met anyone as everything as I am sometimes

You see everything you see every part
You see all my light and you love my dark
You dig everything of which I’m ashamed
There’s not anything to which you can’t relate
And you’re still here."

I know this is the direction my life needed to take, and I know this is where I belong. But it doesn't mean that I've burried or forgotten the most serious relationship I've ever built. I guess part of the growing includes the recognition of the amazing role Germaine played in my life. And I'm thankful for that place that he occupied.