Life plays itself out in acts consisting of happiness and growth, crisis, sorrow, recovery, happiness and growth, then definition. Then it repeats over and over again until you could be considered wise, right before you die. The cruel part is that all of the wisdom gained would have been so much more useful earlier in your life. The great part is that the wisdom you have earned is earned, and it shapes what kind of people those that follow you will be.
People come and go in and out of your life at different times and in different spaces. Some family people are permanent, and those people whether blood related or not ought to be considered family. Others are little saviors and sometimes place keepers that lead you into other things. Most relationships bud, grow, fade, and often die. These little saviors are all but forgotten.
Until you drive past that old white shed where you used to have “Blood brother’s” club meetings. Or smell a carnival and find yourself right back on that ride with your mom, or your dad, or your friends. You can almost feel yourself laughing again. You can go a decade without the thought of a particular person crossing your consciousness, but one morning when you step out into the cold fog, you hear them whisper. You see their shadow just beyond your ability to identify them. They were here again, even if stored in your consciousness and brought back from the depths by the way your streetlight flickers in and out. It’s fleeting, so you cannot touch it. You can only close your eyes and enjoy, remembering the beauty of your youth before the crisis, recovery, and wisdom.