“Oh, to be your age again” my mother commented to me the other day. I’m positive she’s not the first mother to look at their 21 year-old daughter and yearn to experience that youth once more.
When my mother looks at me she sees a young woman doesn’t know what it’s like to have crow’s feet, stretch marks or a wedding ring. She sees “fresh starts”. Despite Jennifer Garner’s prayers to be “thirty, flirty and thriving”, I imagine that most people would like to relive their twenties. I mean the store is called Forever 21 right?
That’s just the thing. I have my whole life ahead of me; that’s just as scary as it is exciting. I’m going into my senior year of college this year. A lot can happen in one year, but as of right now I’m not sure where I’m going to be after graduation. There’s no job offers on the table, but graduate school is not looking too appealing at this moment. Moving back home might be the most financially-sound option available; however I’ll be the first to admit that it is definitely not the most desirable alternative to a college graduate seeking to “spread her wings.”
My mother doesn’t remember what the “not-knowing” feels like. I probably won’t remember when I’m her age either; I’ll find myself uttering that same phrase to my daughter as I’m sure has gone on for generations. If everyone is dying to be this age again, I should relish every moment of this coveted stage of life. After all, you’re only young once (unless you’re Dorian Gray;).)
When I was younger, I would never admit it, but I looked forward to those final days of summer. I couldn’t wait for school to start. I remember running up and down the aisles of Office Depot in search of the perfect three-ring binder, dozens of mechanical pencils, that one ink pen that would glide across pages with ease and of course notebooks. Yes, I was that nerdy child that had all the tabs in my binder labeled by hour and the first week of outfits planned in the middle of July. I miss her. As the years have gone by I’ve lost touch with her.
September is getting closer everyday and two suitcases lay on my bedroom floor. Empty. I just want to savor every last minute of summer: spending my days poolside with an iced coffee in hand, looking at my feet and seeing flip flops and toe rings and not nylons and heels, and getting in cars with friends and just driving for the sake of driving. Maybe I feel that beginning to pack those suitcases is a type a surrender, an acknowledgment that this freedom isn’t permanent. That like all good things, it has an end.
When I get like this I have to remind myself that if life were one perpetual lazy summer, we would tire of it and grow bored. To that I say ” I grew up in Southern California where it is forever summer!” Haha.
On a more serious note, I accept that moving on and letting go is a part of life. We have to enjoy the moments while we have them and make memories while we can. Time stands still for no one. Carpe Diem!
Summer to me: feeling the sand and ocean under my feet:)