I sit here tonight shamelessly sporting a pair of authentic and totally dorky (sorry, Mom) Kodiac themed boxers, an oversized and conspicuously boyish sweatshirt (thanks, Greg) a face spotted with acne medication, and a genuine yet retainer filled smile (thanks, adolescence). As I look around my bedroom, I can’t help but let the nostalgia of childhood waft over me. A plethora of pictures, girlish nicknacks, my cozy white bed and an old tutu hanging on the wall all attribute to this strangely familiar surrounding. Jack just walked in (it’s 2:04 AM) crunching on a bowl of honey bunches of oats and noting that a chewed piece of gum is sitting on my nightstand (oops!) all while laughing about today’s instances with friends.
Tonight I write because it finally hit me that all of this will change very soon. The next thought I begin to ponder is whether I am okay with this or not. I begin to think back to tonight’s earlier instances, which entailed babysitting with Mary Kate and watching the timeless film To Kill a Mockingbird. During the sentimental car ride home, Mary and I meditated on the themes of innocence and ardor that could only be portrayed through the eyes of an eager and endearing child such as Scout. Impelled to smile at the thought of the movie’s soft, puerile music that still couldn’t seem to get out of my head, I surprisingly felt wet tears well up in my eyes, causing Mary to sigh an empathetic chuckle and rub my back. A swift rush of memories began to flood my brain: Chasing after Jack and his friends in the summer, playing in the creek across from our house and exploring Leslie’s thick and wondrous vegetation (or so it seemed of that sort), waking up to the fresh smell of dad’s bacon enveloping our tent while camping, crawling into bed with mom at night, being viscously attacked by our cat Oliver (though I’d rather think of fond memories with Baxter), dancing in my pajamas as I get ready for school in the morning, or waking up to the pure and unequivocal excitement of a snow day.
With these reflections I couldn’t help but realize how wonderful my life has been thus far. Because of you, I have been so incredibly blessed, and will always dearly look back on my youth with a sense of raw affection. Though I may move geographically; experiencing new people and new surroundings, I will always think of you as home. When reflecting on my childhood experiences, I realized what matters most is the love that I have for each of you, individually and uniquely shared throughout the span of these past 18 years. I will always hold you at the highest place in my heart, and will always remember the limitless love that I received from each of you. Just as Scout stepped onto Boo Radley’s porch and began to see the world from a new and lucid perspective, I too look forward to experiencing a new perspective through my adventure this coming year. With this I believe that my inquiry has been answered: Am I okay with this? Yes. Because I am satisfied that I can leave behind a childhood that was simply marked by love. And with that, I thank you.
Love,
Sarah
