So occasionally I find myself drifting off down memory lane and reliving the stories that make me who I am today. These memories are always filled with priceless places and faces that I've encountered over the years; and every face and every place has its own story. Select few have been trusted with the recounting of these tales, but in every retelling the same questions are asked. In order for a new audience to comprehend the details, they must first understand the characters involved...and each character has a tale of its own. So we delve deeper. "Who was Susie? Well, she was like a sister to me." or "Sam? Oh, that was my beagle. He was my best friend." We tell the tales of childhood friends, beloved pets, and first loves. We smile in remembrance of first kisses, and sugar coat the lingering resentment of heart break. We revel in the bittersweet haze that's called the freshman year of college...the bitterness of leaving behind the old and the sweetness of embracing the new. We name names and sometimes reveal the most intimate pieces of ourselves. Some names lay bitter on the tongue; while others are as sweet as southern iced tea. Lemons...and lemonade. And I wonder which one I have been? It is this thought that sticks with me today. As many souls that have crossed paths with mine...I, too, have crossed the paths of others. What part did I play in the story of their lives? Did I scar as many hearts as have scarred mine? Have I handled them as gently as I should have...as I could have? Is my name the one they force acidly from their mouths? Or does the memory of me find favor? Lemons....or lemonade? We all have our stories...I can only strive to write a better one... and hope to bring a smile in the retelling of my tale.
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