Human Mosaic

I had a college roommate in sophomore year who used to wake up in the middle of the night, thirsty. Like clockwork, she woke up before the sun did, quietly slip out of bed and tiptoe to our mini fridge for a drink. We had a case of Deer Park mini water bottles neatly lined up, ready to be grabbed. I'd stir in my creaky lofted bed because I was a light sleeper. But over time, my body got used to waking up when she did and adjusted to her routine.?

She'd finish the bottle in one breath and sigh deeply, satisfied.?

I remember one night, I asked her to pass me a bottle. We drank in silence, gulp after gulp. We finally locked eyes after a contented sigh, and our stomachs synchronized in laughter. We both returned to bed and back to sleep, but our tiny dorm room was still echoing with love.

As the years passed and our lives evolved from shared dorm rooms to separate off-campus apartments, my old roommate and I stopped talking somewhere along the way. But once in a while, like last night, I would still wake up before the sun did and sip a couple of breaths of water. After, I would chuckle to myself, not really knowing why.

I wanted to share a lesson for this week's blog: our bodies never forget people. We're a mosaic of everyone we've ever met and loved. And although there is something shattering about endings — for those of you reading this, I hope you know it's a privilege to have so many fingerprints of people who have stopped by and peered into your heart.?