Looking Glass

When I was ten years old, I used to look at my two older sisters and wish so badly that I could skip forward through time until I was a teenager, with beauty, experience, and what I thought to be a fresh look on the world. I could play games but look physically like the heroines that I looked up to (my sisters, yes, being three of those role models). I used to hate my young and naive face, my frizzy long hair, my inability to wear make-up. I wanted to grow up. And now... two days from my nineteenth birthday, I find myself staring into the past through space when I should be writing a college research paper... I realize something very important and very heartbreaking all at once...

I so badly want to be kid again.

And surprisingly it's not for the obvious reasons, though those do play a part. Responsibility crushes me, deadlines throw their ruthless surprises toward this queen of procrastination, and I fight the battle of a near-adult on a daily basis. But I think what really hits me is the details just inside of all this. Details. I never noticed them as a little blond imp running around with braids flying behind me and imagination wild but inexperienced. I literally lived life day by day. Step by step was my balance, and weekends were those times with swimming and movie and dinner in the living room. That's all. Simple. Perfect. Back when the house was loud and small but big and sunny.

And now, things are... so different. I live life by tasks. I have to complete this paper by this date, I have to get to the bank before too long, I have to get a job so I can prepare for the future. What a foreign word that used to be and still is, but now so much scarier. The house is emptier and quiet, happy but-- big. Oh, so big. And it really just hit me tonight as I sit here scared for what the future brings... God forgive me, I never thought.

I never thought that one day my three best friends who were as tiny and dreamy as I was would be in college or headed there, spacing off in their own directions, pursuing what they love. I never thought that my oldest brother who was posing with his prom dates in the living room or cuddling with me would one day be a happily married lawyer with three children. I never thought my second brother would go away from me at all, that the games would end and he would be getting married soon. I never thought of my Addie as an Army wife and mother. Never thought of Emily as a wife with child and facing things that grown-ups face... I never thought Laura, my comrade and partner in crime, would grow up at all. And me? well, I just never thought.

But most importantly I missed all those details. Those little things like sitting at a table over school books but laughing with my sisters. Mom eating breakfast at a marble table in a Army post house. Dad coming home and letting us excitedly take of his Army boots. My brothers entertaining the family from the back seat of a large van. Holidays, weekends, arguments, family reunions with Aunts, Uncles, cousins, a loving Grandfather.... Sibling rivalry that lasted days but ended with laughter like nothing had ever been wrong. And that just skims the surface. Every little thing that lies inside my mind and heart but is shared with seven others, other memories recalled with laughter that I'm still able to meditate on with those involved because I can never relive them.

But I realize one more thing. I never valued time when I was younger, and whereas I regret it... I don't believe I value it nearly as much still today. I find myself just wishing it would return. Back to where all I had to care about was if I kissed every family member good night before bed. Back before I had to make those grown-up decisions that frustrate me. Not to trade the years I've spent growing up, because I've met such wonderful people that I just find them impossible blessings God has bestowed on me. But to pause time, look around and have just a moment to meditate before life whisks another change my way. I am about to embark on something so big in my life, but all I want to do is climb up into a familiar wooden chair and listen to my family yelling and laughing and living together.

And beyond my childhood, in just the six or so years I've lived in this little-big town called Temple, Texas. So many people have touched me in so many ways. Family friends turned into deeper relationships that I still value. A bond linking across a wide ocean that feels more like one room. People who I worked with, talked with, laughed with and might never see again. People I've learned from, prayed for, cried over. It's all part of this big, heartbreaking, wonderful thing called growing up. You can't stop it. Just cherish it. Every single little moment, even the ones that are painful or annoying. Because every little moment, I've realized, is a gift. I hear it all the time, but I never listened. Until now.

So in two days, when I embark on the final year of my teenage life, one thing will especially weigh on my mind as I take the leap. Life and ALL of those people in it are meant to be cherished, thanked, valued, learned from, and loved. So, I raise my glass to the future, but also to the past that prepared me to face it...