And right now the future is pretty uncertain.
I was so certain that I wouldn't miss this place. I'm so excited to go home that perhaps I overlooked all those frivolous things, that, as the time to leave draws nearer, I realize I might actually miss. There's so many little things I want to remember.
I want to remember that waking up on the right side of the bed is not an option. Maybe that explains some of the difficulties of college life. I suppose I could sleep in the empty bed on the far wall with my feet facing the door. Then I could get up on the right side of the bed. But I'm a creature of habit and that's too much change.
Though at times it keeps me awake and I hate it, I want to remember the laughter that echoes down the halls because the doors and walls of the dorm halls are parchment and they keep few secrets.
I want to remember late night runs with Laura, the crisp air so cool and fresh, the snow at the top of the mountains hovering like a cloud, glowing softly in the moonlight. It always felt so good. I could never help but smile and even laugh. Laura would look at me as if to say, "What is there to laugh about?" I never told her. But, Laura, I'll tell you now. On my playlist of the songs I run to is "Wonder of Wonders, Miracle of Miracles." This song, from Fiddler on the Roof, lists a number of Biblical miracles and then concludes, " . . .But of all God's miracles large and small the most miraculous of them all is the one I thought would never be: God has given you to me." That's why I laughed Laura. I was thanking God for a beautiful night and a wonderful friend to spend it with. I still remember when we walked to the creamery together to get french fries and you said to me, "You're a good friend," then paused and added, "At the beginning of the year I had no idea we'd be friends." To which I could only smile. I'd known. And I'd just waited. Luckily, you came around.
I want to remember sharing soup out of the pan we cooked it in because we didn't want to do dishes.
I want to remember watching Collabro's Britain's Got Talent audition so many times that I had the judges comments memorized. Seriously guys, it's so beautiful!
I want to remember stopping by the ice-cream counter and sampling a couple flavors every day on my way home from class. I'd just take my sample and leave, but don't worry, they got their money's worth. Occasionally, after work, myself and a fellow coworker, Brighton, would stop by on our way home. I want to remember splitting a banana split with her or running to the creamery at 11:00 to grab some french toast or a grilled PB and J (which is quite delicious by the way).
I want to remember coming back from a run with friends at 10:30 at night freezing, grabbing a grilled PB and J and sitting outside talking till almost 1:00. I remember as it neared midnight and we sat under the stars shivering and eating our sandwiches, I'd spoken out loud the thought of how different it would be if midnight were actually lunch time. "Wouldn't it be interesting," I said, "if life were completely different" (I sound so smart after midnight, don't I? :). To this Margaret responded, "Wouldn't it be different if life was completely interesting."
Well, that's college for ya.
I want to remember the majestic mountain mornings and the splendid setting sun. I want to never cease to let it take my breath away.
I want to remember these guys, my dish room crew, the Sud Squad.
 |
| You know life is good when work gives you friends and food :) |
 |
| "Sud Squad on three - One. Two. Three. SUD SQUAD!" |
I want to remember playing darts with the forks against a grate, bowling down the conveyer belt, playing frisbee with the shallow plastic baskets, counting how many pegs were in the dishwasher (3,288 in case you were wondering), dancing to the swing station, and singing "Hallelujah" and "I'm on top of the World" every night as we closed up.
Hallelujah! the year is over. And man oh man, I'm on top of the world. I may not know what's in the future - what my major is, where I'll work, if I'll like my roommates, where to work over the summer . . . but you know what? Right now, life's pretty darn good, and if I can just always say that, then life always will be.
The future is as uncertain as the present.
And the present is certainly good.
Don't ever let me forget that!
Candidly,
Cookie
