What is there to do when you are bored? Not bored in a traditional meaning, however bored with what you know, bored in the knowledge of your own life. I find myself arriving at that stopping point very quickly. I believe that it is at this point when most people begin their mid-life crisis. This concerns me because I am only 18 and that if I am this bored with my life, then what is to come?
I suppose you must know a bit about my life to understand where I am coming from. It is true that I am 18, and it is also true that these 18 years of my life, or rather what I can remember of those years, have all become a blur and I'm not so sure what happened in real life, and what happened in some kind of imaginary world that I created for myself.
I remember certain things, like playing with my dog Andy. He was so much bigger than me, and I'm quite certain that he could drag me most anywhere he went. He was however always loyal to me, though I'm sure by chasing a cat to cling to my older brother's head he somehow betrayed him; Andy was always loyal to me. I used to think that if I could somehow become a dog, then Andy would be the best friend that I could ever have, but that was the dream of a child.
I remember getting older and being visited by my cousin who lived in Florida. Although he didn't live near me, I was always excited when he came to stay. Derek was older than me, but not quite as old as my brother, so you can see how this could cause some problems. My brother and I always battled over who got to play with Derek, and in the end I'm not sure if either of us ever won. Once, I remember that I begged Derek to play Little People with me, and he didn't want to. He said, "I would rather play GI Joe!" After that he ran off to play with the small plastic army men, and I was left to cry by myself.
I remember being told that we were going to move back home. This confused me because where I was at was the only home that I could remember. I don't think a four year old could be as sad as I was while I walked through the old house and told everything wall and every door that I would miss it. I remember climbing in the old truck and watching the house grow smaller as we left it for the final time. I was as composed as I could keep myself until we reached the old corner store where I got all my lollipops, and then I began to cry.
But I remember most of all, my mother.
Although I lost her at an early age, I did get to know her. I saw how beautiful she was, and I'm not sure if I appreciated it at that time, but I know now how much she cared for each and every one her children, as well as her husband. It was my time spent with her through out the last four years of her life that I really got to know my mother. It was then that she became more than just my mother, it was then that she became my friend.
We would set in her bed on Sunday nights and watch television or play a game or just spend talking. Her sister and brother-in-law would bring us food, and it would be just the four of us there for two and a half hours. I looked so forward to Sunday nights, because I knew that I would get to talk to the best friend that I was ever going to find. I don't remember much of what we talked about, and I'm not sure how important most of it was, but we were spending time together and that's the only thing that mattered to me.
I remember new things about her everyday. I remember the way she smelled every time I open my jewelry box. I remember how soft her hands were and how they were always so cold when she touched me. I remember how she would insist that I eat green beans or peaches, and not allow me to leave the dinner table until these certain items of my dinner were consumed. I remember the way she smiled, and the way she laughed. I remember the way she would stand up for her children no matter what. She was such a gentle, kind person, that I can't think of anyone who doesn't miss her. |
Submission Name: The dream of a child
