Saturday, March 12, 2005

I remember a time when five years seemed it would never arrive. I remember thinking, or being told, on the first day of fourth grade that in five years I'd make my way to high school. I remember the five years that took me from adolescence to young adulthood, and I remember thinking it would never come. It struck me the other day that, five years from now, I could very well find myself happily married, enraptured in the college life, or naively searching for some (for any) purpose to a wayward life. Five years into the future, for the longest time, always placed me somewhere I expected to go - eighth grade graduation, my sixteenth birthday, high school dances. But I never expected being in a position where, five years from now, things could be amazingly different. Being a creature of regimented habit, the possibility of losing my only grasp on family, friends, love, indifference, and comfortable sleep has yet to sink in - and probably won't. Imagining myself living away from the confines of my home isn't quite dreadful, but certainly awkward. Imagining myself married, possibly with children, is something I can't even begin to fathom. Maybe I'm not ready to fathom it.

I, along with many of my peers, find myself on the cusp of swift inclinations and depressingly slow declinations. The next five years of my life might very well dictate the terms of my mid-life crisis come 47. The next five years of my life might very well supply me with the fuel to live as happily and prosperously as one can safely do so. The next five years might strike me with tragedy, loss, pain, and regret. But they also may not. It's hard to predict the comings and goings of a life that's yet to be lived. Sadly, as life is constructed in stages, I'm exiting the first and venturing towards the inescapable. Childhood slowly fades into memory - and it's a somewhat shocking, slightly melancholy realization. Losing my childhood to the confines of dusty photo albums, shaky home movies, and the mere abilities of my own memory takes courage - it takes change. Change, as life forces us to recognize, comes at the expense of something precious, something to behold, something we all have to lose. It's something we have to store in little boxes deep within our minds. It's something we have to teach our children and our parents while we have the chance. It's something we should never forget, and it's something we should never take too lightly. It's childhood.

Take care of it.