twenty-two.

When I was a little girl, I always imagined myself years down the road--where I'd be, the man I'd marry, the house I'd live in, the car I'd drive, and the kids I would have.  Now that I'm older, I imagine myself as a kid again--carefree, dependent, secure, safe, dearly loved every day.  I know I'm loved, but nothing replaces the embrace of a mom after falling off a swing set and dropping my popsicle, or a dad who rubs your hair while you fall asleep crying because of what mean girls said at school.  Those are moments that have forever shaped me.  They have taught me life lessons.

The older I get, the more I remember my childhood.  Running on hardwood floors with bare feet, the smell of the garden hose when we would fill up the pool (and filling up the pool was a momentous occasion because in Colorado you never knew how long summer would stick around).

The way my parents would teach me how to spell words correctly--me writing "Probly" and hearing my mom's tender voice, "It's Prob-AB-ly.  Spell it out."  I still remember the way she said it and the way she looked. I remember the wild flowers that would grow on the side of our yellow house--how my little brother Jeremy and I would play in them, catching bumblebees and keeping them as pets either in mason jars or in the screens with our windows closed until they died, then having a special funeral for them--trumpet playing and all.

             

I remember the day my parents woke me up to tell me that I was going to have a little sister, and meeting Kiley for the first time.  She was the most beautiful baby in the world to me and I remember saying, "I'm going to give her hundreds of dollars for her birthday every year so she can spend it at the mall."  (Sorry, Kiley, in reality I'm not actually rich or I would hold myself to that statement.)
I remember all the times I "performed" for family, friends, and sometimes just the stars.  The front porch was my favorite stage.  I enjoyed creating things...I always wanted to invent something new.  Every summer I convinced myself that I was going to create a robot and I was not going to give up.  So, for a few days I would start my robot, thanks to paper and glue, then realizing that I can't actually create a robot out of paper and feeling stupid.

I remember the summers spent outside rollerskating with the neighborhood kids  and trying to create an ambience of a skater rink with Britney Spears, N*Sync and Backstreet Boys blaring from the boombox in the front window.


I was a hopeful little girl, always dreaming and thinking of something.  My teachers didn't understand me.  I doodled on all my papers and hummed songs, especially during math lessons.  I made my first book when I was 6 years old.  It was twenty pages long about a princess named Shaylee, complete with illustrations of stick figures. With long hair, of course.  I was proud of that book and my parents made a big deal about it.  They pushed me in all areas of my life that I had interest in.  They wanted me to the best I could be.

Those were moments that shaped me.  They are just a few of many, many moments that keep reappearing in my memory more and more each day.  In a world of "information overload," it may be surprising to hear that.  But it's not surprising to me because I love to remember.  I wouldn't be standing here today without those little moments in my life, and without the support of a loving family.


Sometimes I forget that I'm married and moved away years ago.  Sometimes I forget that I'm an adult now with a job, with bills, and responsibility.  It all happened too fast.  How can you prepare for these moments of "adulthood" anyway? I don't think any amount of preparation will prepare you.  There is nothing predictable about life.  There is nothing predictable about God.  I think remembering where you came from is how you get to where you're going.

Today, I'm twenty-two years young.
And as much as I don't want to get older, I know I need to.  There's a whole other perspective out there waiting for me.  There are new memories that will form.  There is more "magic" to be created with my little ones when God blesses me with them.  There are more possibilities and experiences right around the corner.  It's good to remember and it's better to live now, even if it's unfamiliar or uncertain.  I'm looking forward to this new age that I've never been before.  This is a new chapter in my story; a new journey to embark upon.