I will never cease to be fascinated by the flow of time.
So many years… and so many minutes… and yet, so little time.
I can’t remember it all. My brain can’t remember everything. It can’t even remember a little of all I’ve been through, what I’ve seen, experienced, said, loved.
I’m a senior this year. I’m graduating, class of 2012. I sat in my grandmother’s house, ten years old, bemoaning the fact I was only in 6th grade. “I still have six more years. I’m only halfway done. School is gonna take forever!” I told her, rolling my eyes dramatically.
Those years-- where did they go?
What happened to them?
I couldn’t tell you. I don’t know. Just gone, where time goes, and I don’t really remember them, because I can’t, because no one can remember them all.
My brother is leaving for college today. We’re driving him north, to Indiana Wesleyan University, where he’ll study away the next 4 years of his life. Nursing, to become a professor someday.
That’ll be me next year. Headed to college. Moving out. Growing up. A woman.
Why aren’t we still those little kids, he running around in the Ash Ketchum hat with the Pikachu plushes, I skipping after in the pink sundress and the jelly shoes and the insanely long curly hair?
Everyone grows up, I know.
I just don’t really understand it all.
We grow, and we age, and we change. We leave, and move out, and get older. We get lives. We’re not kids anymore.
It happened so fast.
People tell me that I’ve grown so much, that they thought I was older than I really am, that I seem so mature.
It amuses me they remind me.
I know I’m not the little princess in the lacy socks and the sparkly pink shoes.
But that doesn’t mean that I don’t miss being her with all of my heart.
Today my brother moves out. I’ll miss him, of course—but I think his absence will be a reminder of something more my senior year. A reminder that everyone grows up, and it’s just our time.
A reminder of how tragically sad and yet universally accepted growing up is.
I never want to forget. I wish I could keep every moment alive. I wish I could go back and forever live my fleeting summer afternoons as a princess or a Jedi or a superhero or whatever I wanted to be. I wish I could just exist there, in my comfortable, wonderful childhood.
And that’s what his absence will serve to remind me of.
Time, moving, unstoppable.
-- Christina Icarus