I don’t remember the exact moment when I first realized I wasn’t a child anymore. I think it would be extremely hard for anyone to try and pinpoint that exact moment in time. Even though I don’t know when, I do know that it happened; I’m not a little kid anymore, and I haven’t been for a while.
What scares me about all of this is the fact that I’m aging. I’m getting older and learning just how quickly life can fly away. I know I’m only sixteen and it seems ridiculous for me to say these things, but some days I just feel so much older than that.
I look back and I remember my childhood in tiny glimpses like movie clips shot through the lens of a faulty camera. Pieces are missing; part of the patchwork isn’t there, and the edges have become frayed.
I remember being in a car when I was very young. It was dark outside and it seems like it was winter then. A song was playing on the radio as my mother drove out of the driveway, but I can’t place the tune.
I have so many memories similar to that one. All the necessary details are there except for the most crucial one. How much of our lives are spent this way? Scientists say that out of all the things our eyes are taking in at any given moment, only a fraction of that is actually processed by our brain. That is pretty amazing to me, just thinking about how much we actually miss from the whole picture is something to think about.
Maybe the song on the radio that day when I was so young was “Bad Day” by R.E.M, a song that inexplicably pops into my head at random intervals almost everyday. I can’t ask my mom because something that tiny probably isn’t in her memory, but for whatever reason, it made it into mine.
Maybe it’s these fragmented memories that mean the most to me. It’s a sort of bittersweet feeling, to know that at some point in my life these tiny things meant so much to me that I tried to preserve them. Maybe all of these incomplete memories shaped me into this person that I’ve become.
Honestly, I am proud of who I am today. It’s taken me a very long time to say that, but now I feel like it’s the truth. I know I have my faults and imperfections like everyone else, but I’m learning through the way I live my life. We only have one shot at this, so we might as well make as many memories as we possibly can.
About the Writer
Knocked Askew is artistic, fun loving, and quirky. She loves to write, read, snap pictures, and play the ukulele. In other words, she’s a total dork. She hopes to one day travel the world, though at fifteen (almost sixteen), there isn’t much she can do about that yet. You can visit her blog at Knocked Askew, and you can like her blog’s Facebook page here.