Georgia - Geeeooorrrgia...

It's been a month, but I still want to capture this here where I will know where to find it, so this will be a bit of a catching up post.

I used to live in Georgia. As a matter of fact, I have often said it was my favorite place I've ever lived. Some of that was because of the culture, some was because of the people I knew there. We moved away when I was 18. It was a decision my parents made based on church preferences and I left kicking and screaming. I think literally. Or at least I know I cried most of the way from Georgia to Texas. I'll skip over the next few years, but my heart was often sad and I cried in my bed many nights over disrupted relationships that were inevitable due to the church situation we were in then.



Life moved on and I mostly lost touch with the people I had known and loved in Georgia. I often dreamed of returning. But, you know how it is, months flow into years and there are always things demanding your attention. Not to mention that the awkwardness of how I left still lingered in my mind.


I reached out to one friend, my closest friend back in the day, Laura to see if it would work to see her and her family if we traveled to the area over spring break. Her response was fast and overwhelming. In essence, "Yes! Please come! Stay with us! I have dreamed of this..." From that point the trip took on a life of its own. It was sweet and amazing. I cried a lot as I remembered and came to grips with... all of it. Keith and the kids were sweet even though, in typical Erin fashion, I had not told them much about any of it.




We stayed with Laura's family. We sat and visited for hours. She has this beautiful house with a big front porch. We sat out on the swing and talked. I can't say we picked up where we left off because the difference between 18 years old and 45 years old is too great for that. But I can say we reconnected in a new and deeper way. We have raised families, faced pain and hardship, and changed in so many ways. There were funny little things: we not only drive the same vehicle, the ones before these were also the same. There were the really meaningful things: we grieved similarly when our oldest children left home, we both work with our husbands and know the stresses and joys that entails. 





We also saw others while we were there. We shared meals with people, stopped in for short visits, and even walked through the church we went to there. This was the church where I was baptized and joined the Mennonites. People were overwhelmingly kind. Even as I fumbled through the apologies I felt I needed to make, even as I cried and stepped into the awkward. I felt accepted and loved. And it was good.




 
We even got to walk through the house my family lived in when we lived there. We had moved 2 houses onto land and put them together. Now someone we knew, who was just a little girl back then, lives there with her husband and 4 boys. It has changed so much, but was still so much the same. 





The whole experience was... I don't even know how to put it into words... it was amazing, and life giving, it closed circles and opened possibilities. I'm just overwhelmingly grateful for a second chance at friendship with some very special people.

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