Brownies

Not too long ago, a blast from my elementary school past tagged me in a photo on facebook, because she had come across an oldie but goody of our girl scout troup. It spawned a discussion amongst half of the sweet little things in that picture about which set of stairs we were sitting on, and it was the first time I have spoken with many of them since middle school. (In Atlanta, outside the Cyclorama near the zoo if you must know.) One, wild, reckless darling is still a very dear friend, but almost all the others are honeysuckle whispers in my memories. While I don't know all of the updates on them, one is a published author, many are moms, there is a teacher or two, a Chic-fil-A owner's wife and a musician, which makes me wonder what our small selves would have thought about that. I actually think we would have been kind to our adult selves. Because while we were making backpacks out of old jeans and cooking campers' pies over the fire, we were mostly learning about the bonds that are possible between women and all the things we could accomplish if we wanted to. Oddly, with all the time we spent together, my memories of girl scouts and those old friends I have such a soft spot for are thin and difficult to piece together. Lisa gave me a bit of insight into who I was back then, via her mom who was our troop leader, when she recalled how I was always so independent--always did my own thing. I wish so much I could go back and see. I guess hindsight isn't really 20/20 and besides what would I be expecting to learn about my own self? The fond memories and the occasional re-connect are all I need to know about who I was back then and the lessons I have chosen to hold dear.