That's Familiar.

Halle Mosser
Apr 28, 2017
3 min read

Tonight I had the opportunity to join in the celebrations of showering one of dearest friends with love, hugs, and "His" and "Her" coffee mugs during a surprise Bridal Shower in the private school that we grew up in.

The whole ordeal welcomed a cornucopia of unwanted emotions. For me, at least.

My five senses were on point from the minute I set foot in good ol' (formerly) Living Word Academy. But I'll spare you the nostalgic details.

When I walked in I was greeted by the sincerest of hugs from all the Mama's that had a joint effort in raising me and my friends' little group. I took a seat in the back next to some familiar faces and made polite small talk. I picked at some of the mini quiches, indulged in a few too many cupcakes, and fumbled with my Fidget Cube. Just as the festivities were beginning to start, I was beginning to "lose it." We were instructed to read the place cards at our table, as they each contained a prompt for marriage advice to give to the bride-to-be. I honestly cannot remember the exact wording of the prompt, except for that it started out something like..."in your years of being married...."

But by this point I could feel the corners of my mouth pulling down. I begged them to stop. Head down, I excused myself from the table and headed back to the familiar bathrooms. I perched myself up on the familiar baby blue countertops, and stared at the familiar silk bouquet of flowers that has not changed since 2001. I looked into the mirror, eyes red and cheeks flushed, and thought that there is no possible way that elementary school Halle looked into these same mirrors. But she did. And I was.

Nothing had changed. The bathroom was just a hideous, the brand of paper towels had not gotten any softer, and the water from the fountain still tasted lukewarm with a hint of Amish Country.

Yet everything had changed. And that's why I cried. I was walking the halls of a school I spent 10 years in, and celebrating a friend I've known for 15. I wasn't walking into that bathroom because it was 1:30pm and time for our 2nd grade bathroom break; I was walking into that bathroom because it was familiar . Something I longed for. I was under the impression that if I was in the same scenario I grew up in, with the same people I grew up with, it would bring back the friendships I felt I was losing. But it doesn't. And it won't.

I am in that awkward in-between stage where my formerly attached-at-the-hip best friends are growing up and I, too. For the past two years or so, I've doubted the sincerity of our friendships. I felt my random texts and check-in's were never reciprocated. It lead me to entertain the idea that "maybe they are just for a season." And I was prepared to start closing that chapter in my life. But sitting in that bathroom I remembered all the little memories that came with every single room and hallway in that building. Sure. That chapter, that book- of my life may have closed in 2013; but now I'm in the sequel. This beautiful, unedited, sequel full of bridal showers, babies, and the same best friends.

God has a sense of humor. And I love a guy that can make me laugh. Tonight lead me to an uncomfortable situation that I had put expectations on. In the midst of my self-pity, God met me in this bathroom, the same familiar bathroom, reminding me that it is pretty freaking cool that I can continue memories that my 7 year old self wouldn't have even thought possible.

So to my girls, let this be my sweeping declaration and promise to you that even though we are growing up, I will not let it mean that we will grow apart.