Everything comes full circle, I suppose. Perhaps everyone does too.
The first town I lived in didn’t have a stop light, or a school, but it had a Southern Baptist church. It didn’t have a McDonald’s, or Taco Bell, not even a mom and pop place, or a gas station. It wasn’t even a town, being unincorporated.
My family lived there until I was 12. That’s when Dad went stupid, and Mom left him, and took me to Jackson with her. That’s when I said goodbye to Bonnie.
Bonnie lived next door. She was cute as cute gets, with amazing red hair I got caught staring at too many times. We’d been friends as long as either of us could remember, and we’d never thought our friendship would end.
Until Dad went stupid, and Mom and I moved.
The night before we left, I took a walk with Bonnie. Mom told me, “She’s your friend, you need to say good-bye.” That night was when Bonnie kissed me. We had no idea how kisses worked, but she kissed me anyway, and held my hand as we walked.
The next morning I went next door, and said good-bye to Bonnie. She asked me to write, and to come visit someday. “Mom cried herself to sleep last night.” I told her. Then, I told her I wouldn’t come back here again.
And I never did. Until now. For Bonnie’s funeral.
Everything does come full circle, you know.
It’s Week 413 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. And more words in whatever it is that’s writing itself have turned up. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who show up every week.