With the six of us on this hill and the packed lake house behind us—I feel sentiments far beyond this sunrise, this morning, this moment. We filled an empty house.
I’m thirty-seven.
Just yesterday I was twenty and meeting some of these people—people that I’d spend my life with, that’d become my home.
Just yesterday I was twenty—still deeply and desperately in love with my best friend.
I grew older.
We all grow older.
In a blink of an eye, our children will grow old too.
And I’ll think: just yesterday they were twenty. Headed for college. Falling in love. Memories will flood behind us, the lake house no longer filled to the brim. As quiet as the moment we first walked in—and we’ll sit on this hill. Feeling the stillness that exists.
And then we end—we end where we started.
Just us.
All six of us.