I'm running errands this morning, and I'm sitting at the eye doctor's, waiting to pick up some contacts. I really enjoy sitting in waiting areas, because I enjoy watching people. And thinking.
There were two sets of elderly couples here a minute ago, and they were friends. They were talking and chatting, and my mind instantly started wondering what their stories were. Were have they come from? What was life like when they were young; my age? I crave that information, and I don't even know why. Maybe it's because I often think I was born in the wrong time period. It goes without saying that God makes no mistakes and I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. But I really think that my soul is in a simpler, more old fashioned time.
Then I saw a lady holding one of those purses that you can put pictures in. I glanced at them and noticed pictures of family, all different ages, smiling in the pictures. Those people are to her what my family, husband, and daughter are to me. They're complete strangers to me, but they're everything to her.
I totally get that this post is weird and deep. But that's why I like blogging from my phone; my thoughts can be written as I think them. People, their stories, their souls and their loved ones are so complex. They're so deep. I am one of billions in this world who has their own story.
I wish I could learn all of them.
