Today, as I was driving back from Thanksgiving break, it was dark and I could see the hazy light of towns as I passed by. And a memory shot through me with a jolt.
I was sitting next to Moriah on the bus that we had spent the last two weeks on. She had nabbed the window seat. It was probably 1 a.m. and there was haze of Kearney was before us. Her hair was squished on one side from sleeping against the window and she turned to me with sleepy eyes.
"It's so beautiful, you know," she said.
I had no idea what she was talking about, but I nodded wearily.
"We've been to New York and Chicago and seen everything, but home is still beautiful"
Now I may have the exact quote wrong, but I remember thinking she was completely right. No matter how much both of us complained about our hometowns, we both still had a special place in our heart for the places we came from.
This past April, my mom asked me once if I had been thinking about Moriah lately and at the time I was taken aback. I hadn't thought about her for weeks probably. What a terrible friend I was. How could I have forgotten her only a year after she passed away? I just felt awful about it for quite a while. But it's moments like this, when I see city lights, flip by Snooki in a magazine, eat at Olive Garden, or scroll by her number in my phone (I still haven't been able to delete it) show me she's not forgotten. Sometimes the memories make me cry and other times they make me laugh out loud, but no matter what, she's there. She has a home in my heart. Even if I don't see her all the time.
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