As kids, we used to wake up in the morning and go about our day as if the world was made for us. My childhood replays in my head daily like a movie that is just slightly blurry. My mom used to make me homemade granola bars for breakfast.
Every day, my grandma would come to the house after my parents had gone to work to get me onto the bus. I would get a hug and kiss goodbye and be sent off to school with a positive attitude that only a child could have.
This was the same every day. Except Tuesdays. Tuesdays were by far the best day of the week. My mom wouldn’t go to work until after I got on the bus. She would make me pancakes or eggs or anything I wanted to eat for breakfast, and she would even let me eat it while sitting on the couch, (which was a big deal).
I would get my backpack and lunch bag all together before eating, and then I would sit on the couch with my mom and watch old reruns. My favorites were “I Love Lucy” and “Bewitched”. In those moments, I felt such a deep feeling of contentment and peace. I always sat to the right of my mom, and we would just sit and laugh and talk about the little things going on in our lives.
When the bus came, my mom would walk me out, kiss me goodbye, wave hello to the bus driver Miss Cheryl, and I would be off to school. I often wonder when we stopped having our Tuesday mornings. The same way I often wonder about the last time my mom picked me up or the last time my dad carried me off to bed after a long night.
I took all of these things for granted, but how could I have known any better? I didn’t appreciate the innocence of having nothing to worry about or stress over, but I never thought that things could change.
I miss going to school with a smile and not having to worry about my grades. I miss spending time out riding my bike with all of my neighborhood friends on summer evenings. I miss the smells, the sights, the sounds from that era of my life. I mourn what I can no longer have as I grow each and every day. I cannot wake up every morning with a smile and an optimistic attitude.
If I’m being honest, I wake up most morning with a heavy feeling in my chest. When you’re young, everything seems to go your way. You’re catered to by the ones that love you most and all of your needs, and more, are met. Now, there seems to be nothing but worry and stress in my life.
As I reflect on my childhood, I am forced to think about the issues of everyday life. My rights as a woman are at stake, school isn’t going the way I want it, I miss my family, and I just feel alone. It all seems unfair. I often have to remind myself of the positives each day. I have grown into a strong, independent woman who is well-rounded and intelligent. I know that the girl I used to be would be proud of the woman I am today. And I wish I could say that it brings me peace, but it doesn’t. I still grieve my childhood every day, but I’m moving forward. I am working on finding balance between reminiscing and progressing. It’s a tough road, but I’m getting closer, and I am proud of myself.Â