you can take the girl out of the city, but you can't take the city out of the girl

"Never forget your roots or the people who watched you grow up."

Conversations of family, friends, relationships, work, and memories over a three hour brunch with a former boss-turned-friend.  She provided me with my very first job, working at the University Library during my junior year of high school.  It was my first real experience in the work force and it was down right intimidating.  She showed me the ropes, introduced me to her colleagues and co-workers and before I knew it, I returned every summer thereafter.  Sure, the work was dry and mundane, but that experience set me up for my professional career.

As we get older, we sometimes forget those people who have watched us grow.  The neighbors and family friends who have, and always will, genuinely care about you: the neighbors whose children you grew up with and spent sleep overs at their house; the family friend who held both of your parents funerals at his Funeral Home and witnessed your worst moments; the former boss who nurtured the start of your professional career.  These are the people who truly matter.  These are the people who would do anything for you [or your family] because they have done nothing but love and support you after all of these years.  These people have watched you grow up, perhaps even along side their own children. 

Family isn't always defined by genealogy and DNA.  For some, it's defined by those people who have watched you grow up, seen you at your absolute best and worst in life, and have continued to stay a part of it.  When we lose someone close to us, we tend to lose touch with those who knew the deceased.  Whether it's a sibling, a best friend or a colleague - we forget that it wasn't just us who lost a loved one; they did, too.

"Don't say it to me unless you mean it."

We often say something just for the sake of speaking and not necessarily because we mean it.  We say something because it makes the other person feel good, not necessarily because we want to say it.  

I said "thank you" to my former boss-turned-friend as we were sitting at brunch, wrapping up our conversations.  I said it - not because she paid for brunch [although yes, I did thank her for that, too], but because she has provided me with undying love and support since I was seventeen, just as my own parents would have done for someone.  She lost a close friend and a colleague the same day I lost my mother, and it wasn't until we had brunch over the weekend and started reminiscing, that I realized she had been mourning for the last seven years, too.

We remember the impact of close friends and old lovers, but we forget about the impact of those who have literally watched us grow up.  We [sometimes] forget what kind of impact our hometown has on us - cultures, diversity, social scene, restaurants, sports teams, buildings - until we are old enough to appreciate it.  The beauty a city can have on a person is something to admire.