Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a youth. What became of it?

Some Things Remain Forever

Throughout our lives, we are attached to many things. It is a fundamental aspect of our human nature. From the toddler with a cherished toy truck to the teenager deeply connected to their best friend, these attachments evolve and transform as we navigate life. Now on the other side of 60, I reflect on a myriad of things that I have held dear, many that have faded into the recesses of my memory.

As a total sentimentalist, my storage room harbors boxes dating back to fifth grade (and earlier), containing letters, trinkets, and tokens of affection. Dime store knick-knacks from leisurely walks to ME Moses in Oak Cliff, or stuff kept from my visits to Six Flags over Texas with my cousin, each item holds a memory of a simpler time and experiences that shaped me.

Yet, amidst these tangible relics, one intangible aspect stands out—the spiritual core of my youth, entwined with church, Jesus, and the rituals of growing up in a Christian home. A preacher’s kid, I found attachment in the people, customs, activities, and notably, our youth pastor.

The arrival of our youth pastor at the tender age of 12 marked a pivotal moment in my life. A vivacious young man with rosy cheeks that reminded me of Santa Claus, we all fell in love with him as he became the focal point of our tight-knit community. Weekends were consumed by youth group activities, choir singing, church services, street ministry, prison visits, and performances with my singing group. It was a vibrant social tapestry, and our youth pastor, with his infectious positivity, played a central role. 

His influence was profound, teaching me balance, resilience, and the art of a genuine smile – “A smile is just a frown turned upside down!”. He embodied the principles he preached, leaving an indelible mark on my formative years. Although my beliefs have shifted, the impact of those times remains a cherished part of my identity.

As time went by, he moved on, as did I.  But his contributions to my life stayed top of mind. Years later, I went to visit him and his wife, and he hadn’t changed a bit (except for his gray hair, now he really looked like Santa). His smile, his laughter, and his enduring love remained untouched by the passing years. It was a reminder that, despite the twists and turns of life, some connections endure, and the essence of what we once shared remained.

In the grand mosaic of life, attachments come and go. The things that don’t matter fade away, but the things that have influenced us endure, shaping who we are and who we become. Whether manifested in small trinkets or significant relationships, these attachments become a part of us forever.