That's What I Was Gonna Say

Something Big: The Black Hills

Alyssa & I at Mount Rushmore

I stared up at the faces looming before me, their detail lessened the distance between them and me, but their size defined two separate worlds.  Driving through the Black Hills reveled greater depth and greater height.  It was a sea of rocky mountains and trees.  It was expansive and unending, and I felt small.

Something Broken: Partners in Crime
We ran up Old Main hill, taking pictures and laughing as we usually did.  But something had changed in the past year.  My best friend, M, and I were partners in crime, running buddies, doorbell-ditching pals, and homework helpers.  But something shifted the last year of high school.  We still had our share of time together, but the camaraderie we'd had changed.  And soon we spent less and less time together.  Our first semester of college together was the same, and even though we said we were best friends we never reached the point of closeness we'd had before.  She left on her mission the week after I came home, so who knows what will happen when she gets back.

Something Artistic or Man-Made: Servant or Master?

My favorite part had arrived.  All else evaporated into the silence and I closed my eyes.  The music led my hands from one key to the next--ever pulling, demanding, hungry and desperate to expose itself.  I thought I was the musician here.  Yet I felt something that my fingers couldn't express: it transcended physical ability and captured what couldn't be spoken.  The striking melody was both haunting and beautiful; calming yet intensifying; satisfying but at the same time disappointing--for nothing else could articulate what a wordless conversation had inspired. (see Khachaturian Concerto Part I below; see 3:22 or 11:14)

Something Mysterious: That's What I Was Gonna Say

I opened the email from my mom with anticipation.  The previous week I'd asked her to send me my biological dad's address.  At the end of the email she said, "Oh that's funny--Alyssa asked me the same thing last week too."  We, my twin sister and I, were both serving missions and this wasn't the first time (nor the last) something similar happened.  My older brother frequently yells, "Jinx!" as he hears us say the same thing at the same time.  Often when Alyssa and I are talking, I say what she's thinking (or vice-versa) or we finish each other's sentences.  And although we only have a few of the same clothes, we nearly always wear them on the same day.