It’s a breezy summer night, the last night of the summer after your walked the stage in a black cap and gown. A golden campfire glows and a circle of your closest friends, sit with sticks in hand, crispy marshmallows on end. The air is warm, but crisp, cool enough for you to trade in the day’s tank top for a soft light sweater, or maybe, a flannel blanket for two. As the golden embers float to the sky and flaming marshmallows are stuffed between two crisp crackers, you look around at your friends, laughing, smiling; loving life.
The music rolls on from the back of a pickup truck and you take to discussing dreams, plans or lack thereof. The friends you galavanted carelessly with all through college talk of making big moves and life changes. It occurs to you that your youth, that you once felt was everlasting, would soon lead way to full blown adulthood. scary adulthood
Instead of continuing the solemn track of long goodbyes and the stay in touch promises you know won’t be kept, you turn to bringing up old memories. The memories you laugh about now, but would probably never tell your children. The laughter rises again and you take note, of the new memories just made, of goodbyes, promises and bright ambitions headed for the next chapter.