I spent my Tuesday night sitting amongst a circle of people whom I’ve never met before, but within a few hours created and sparked an instant connection. They were all there to celebrate Laura’s new journey, I’m saying ‘new’ because someday someone’s going to write a novel about all of her adventures and all that she’s seen, this isn’t the first chapter. Everyone in the room questioned how Laura and I knew each other. We could only answer with, “Since I [Me] was born.” God blessed me with two sisters, and gave me two more, Laura and Natasha. They taught me how to dance to Spice Girls, they watched a copious amount of Big Wolf on Campus episodes with me, and most importantly have always been the biggest supporters.
Laura is a nomad, she cannot sit still. At 17 she was building schools in Ethiopia, and now at 24 (almost 25) she’s picking up her things and moving to B.C. Laura and I always had this connection when it comes to school, and our education. Because we’ve both have taken similar English career paths (I’m still in the midst of it, she’s done.) Therefore she now has the ability to focus more on something that’ll enrich her more than a four hour, in a four-walled lecture room could.
When I was 11/12, I spent the night in Laura’s room while she slept downstairs with my sisters. Considering the fact that they’re all older (by 5/6 years) they deserved that time to themselves. Before I went to bed, I looked at her drawer top and it had a row of filled notebooks lined up one by one. Instantly I questioned if Laura was a writer. I spent the entire night wondering what was in there, and what her thoughts were. I was also a notebook-hoarder, so I did not touch hers out of respect. I didn’t even walk up to them, I admired from a far. Because if people were to go through my composition books, I would go ballistic. (Says a girl with a blog and a novel)
Last night, I was introduced to just a preview of what Laura’s life is like. Outside of family gatherings, and her charity events. In the middle of the beach, not too close to the water, just close enough to feel a bit of a breeze, on 4 different blankets, lied a beautiful group of people. They all inspired me in their own way. All contributing conversation, and passing along cups of Red Wine. Nothing felt forced. People were dancing, discussing a multitude of topics, and I even let a few open my manuscript. Which began to terrify me, because they barely knew me and I was scared my novel would be their first impression.
Before I let go of Laura, I asked her to write while she’s in BC, and to take photos. When I asked her to write, I was referring to the amount of journals she had once kept from when I was 11. It was the first thing that came to mind, even after a few glasses of Red Wine. I also gave her a Hunter S. Thompson quote. I’m corny, sue me.
I got to look at Laura’s room, the photos you’ve seen throughout this blog post. Because I became inspired by her space, and her way of looking at the world. I see nothing but wonderful things for her. Whether she’s in BC, Africa, or Portugal, she’s somewhere. She’s taking the ride. She’ll learn more about herself that she hasn’t already figured out. Things will be cherished more. I’m proud of her for this next chapter of her life, one day I hope to be brave enough to do the same.