To Remember Is To Never Forget

To remember is to never forget, so may these words live on as a reminder of what this past week on mission trip was like;

It was the smell of Charleston, like you could sell it as a candle.
It was the sticker name tags with a blue border we were given on the first day,
It was the way it looked like the rain glistened on the pavement but it was actually glitter from a glitter fight,
It was the feeling of accomplishment when I made it to the center in "nine square",
It was the way a completely full air mattress would deflate to the ground by morning,
It was the way a pen ran out of ink after writing too many care cards,
It was the way the flashlight illuminated a face through the darkness to show a smile when it was past lights out,
It was the individually bagged sandwich meats, condiments, and other contents that became part of our daily lunch routine,
It was the trailer noisily clanking behind a blue truck as we came upon a new bump in the road,
It was the surprisingly satisfying taste of juice that came out of a container that looked like yogurt,
It was the illuminated night sky sprinkled with stars in the middle of nowhere,
It was paint that peeled off my face as I let the tears flow,
It was the relief in knowing I wasn't picked for "Bucket of Doom" that night,
It was rides in Matt's truck stuck in the middle seat as navigator,
It was the taste of salt water after the impact of a wave thrust me backwards,
It was the non-stop vibration that pulsed through my body after using a weed-eater,
It was the constant yanking on the starter cord with no luck,
It was the fading name written in sharpie on a water bottle bought from Wal-Mart,
It was the feeling that time was non-existent with no phone to remind me,
It was the Disney playlist that looped continuously in the gym,
It was being burned by an old clock when trying replace the double A battery,
It was the sand from the beach that never seemed to come all the way off our bodies or clothes,
It was peering out the van window and seeing a body of water with no end,
It was birthday cake ice cream melting out of the cone down the side of my hand,
It was the God sightings and stories that were shared for hours,
It was wrapping my arms around each other for so long my shoulders began to hurt,
It was being called "miss" by a little girl I just met,
It was carrying around a bucket filled with water simulating the strife of children who walk miles to get it,
It was the aching feet of a dozen youth meandering around the city like tourists,
It was the bags under my eyes from an early morning but an eager heart,
It was the sound of 40 youth yelling the words to "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" at the top of their lungs,
It was a warm embrace of a new friend going back to their home church,
It was "red shirts" making those who lose thing compromise to get it back,
It was repeatedly asking to turn the volume or AC up every 2 minutes,
It was losing wallets at frequent bathroom stops,
It was holding hands during every prayer,
It was picking up the tempo to "My Lighthouse" and clapping too fast,
It was waiting in line to brush my teeth when it was already 11:07,
It was shivering beneath the sleeping bag that was likely older than me,
It was turning the shower knob the wrong way and being scolded by hot water,
It was 9 hour van rides that turned in 13 hours,
It was the bliss of being somewhere new and exciting, but doing something I have always loved with people I loved.

It was a lot things, but what it was is what it will always be to me: special.

And sometimes, when I looked around, everything felt familiar.
When I picked up shards of glass, the way it brushed uncomfortably against my work glove reminded me of blacktop in Marks, Mississippi that was littered with fragments of beer bottles,
A child asking to braid my hair made me reminisce about how the girls at the playground in Marks would put knots in my hair that I could never seem to get out,
The paint on my borrowed scrubs prompted a kid to ask me if I had been painting, and I said no, not today at least,
When "Forget You" came on shuffle I could do anything but forget how we used to play that song every time we went somewhere years ago,
The timing of every "sloppy wet kiss" paired with passionate voices that echoed in my mind as far back to when I heard it at Warmth in Winter in 2014,
Even the bike seemingly abandoned in front of the church laying on its side in the grass gave me flashbacks to Cincinnati.

I'll play this week back in my mind like it's recorded on a cassette.
I might even try to flip it thinking there's more on the other side,
And although there might be space left to fill,
I'm thankful for the music and magic we made this week,
It'll be like those songs you can't stop singing because they never get out of your head.
Except I never want to get it out of my head,
Because why would I want to forget?