Cherry Pie

Dear Diary,

I just realized, I never told you how my trip back home was.

It was pretty uneventful but that’s what makes it so noteworthy. My younger cousins are growing up...so are my friends, so am I. I know this isn’t rocket science or a new occurrence. Still, I think that when you’re younger you’re in such a hurry to do things and see the world. It’s like you’re laying the foundation for who you’ll become. Some people turn into their parents and others turn into people they don’t recognize.

I almost didn’t recognize my cousins; I guess I’ve been away from home longer than I thought. They didn’t ambush me and bombard me with questions the way they used to. Instead, they hugged me and asked me about my trip, then they went back downstairs to play video games. I decided I’d remind them who their favorite cousin was with a pie—cherry—my specialty.

As I was rolling the dough and preparing the pie crust, I caught my reflection in the freshly shined table. I looked like my mom, or rather, I looked like my mom when she was still a plump, juicy, cherry.

And just like the pie I was making, soon that cherry would turn into something barely recognizable—but, hopefully, so much sweeter.

-Eve