Lessons Learned, Memories Treasured

       Home, home isn't a place, home are the people you are with that mean something to you. Linden, the place I have lived a majority of my life now has a soft spot in my heart, despite all the hatred I held for it growing up. From the moment I turned ten until I was 17, i walked to school every single day. I have found that those sometimes 20- 30 minute walks to and from school shaped me in ways that only the roads and its silent warnings and prayers can teach you. Every morning, way before the sun rose in the sky to greet us hello, my feet where already on the pavement. Sometimes the fog would roll in and make the playgrounds look like abandoned cemeteries that held nothing but broken dreams and promise. The winter months where the harshest, blizzard snows blinded you like a sunny day, every part of your body was an ice cube by the time you got home.

            Regardless of all that, those walks hold some of the best memories and life lessons. Head slightly pointed down, eyes dashing in all directions, keep your ears open and make sure you have both hands in your pocket. One gripping on to a cell phone ready to dial 911, the other with your keys between your fingers, just in case. I would always walk with my headphones in, the volume was always on mute. I learned how to detect if somebody was walking behind me and I soon learned that there are strength in numbers. By the time I reached middle school, a large portion of my friends all walked home and lived near me, so we would all walk together in one large group, sometimes I feel like the soccer moms picking up their kids from the elementary school, felt we were a mob ready to destroy their children. My best memories come from walking to and from school with my friends throughout middle and high school. I remember all the times we would help the fragile old lady on Sunny Side Drive carry her groceries in the house. We sometimes use to walk down the middle of sleepy streets or race each other to the end of the block.  There was always an extra ear bud laying around or even a shoulder to cry on. Our group, though large in size, was closer than any person could imagine. All of us were from different classifications aka cliches, but that didn't hinder our weird, forever treasured friendship. Our walks turned into impromptu therapy sessions, regulated by nobody but us. We cried, we laughed, and we learned that their was always someone to count on, even if there was nobody there when we got home. We taught each other how to be vulnerable and yet carefree in the way every child should be. Most importantly, we taught each other that family does't have to mean your a blood relative, because while blood is thicker than water, but it's water that washes away fear, tears, and skinned knees.