Last night I drove to Lincoln to sit in the parking lot of my old school. I’d originally planned to go to Williamsville to stop at the Subway for something other than camp food. But once I was that far I was close enough to the exit only 14ish miles further and decided to go to the Jimmy Johns I’d sometimes go to if I had enough time before class.

The name of our building was Restoration Hall. I remember seeing that name and feeling like it was a sign from God to me, assuring me this would be a healing place to come back from the damage that had accrued in my life. I ate my sandwich and called my aunt and told her it’d been four months since grandma had died. She’d forgotten.

That day, but had remembered earlier this week. I remember mostly when I cannot call her. So I sat outside of Restoration Hall in my van and heard about Tim who’d found another friend and was seeing her now. Before that Tim had called my aunt daily for months, surprised her with a visit, and endured being just friends with her for a while.

But eventually that was not what he was ultimately looking for. So that was kind of a bummer but it’s the way that it goes. It was nice while it lasted and fun to hear her old stories. After that I drove home where the evening activity was hayrack rides for the campers. I waved to Dad and one of the boys as I drove by. The others were outside.

I went in to hang out with the nurse who was still upset from the morning med pass. She was setting up the men’s pills to be ready the next morning so I started on setting up for the women. Ethan asked if I could give him his camper’s meds first and I said yes. After bedtime meds were done and morning ones too, I walked home and went to sleep.