Nostalgic Echoes
“I wish I could grow up faster and live on my own.” I say to mom as she tucks me into my Tinker Bell bed. As the warm summer days of running around barefoot in the freshly-cut grass, and swinging high on the tire swing came to an end, the dull winters of adulthood started to settle in. There was a sense of youth and innocence in the air at the time, one of which I didn’t realize I would greatly miss.
This life was magical and simple. Time and time again for years my sister and I ran to our playroom and fought over what game we would play next. We countlessly got warped into a world of Mario on our wii. I was once again stuck in a bubble, as my sister carried us to the flagpole. A long blue elephant’s trunk reached to the sky, as a kaleidoscope of butterflies gracefully flew into our nets. “How about a fort with couch cushions?!” I excitedly ask my sister.
The cushions seemed huge at the time. The fort we decorated and put much thought into, with blankets draped over top, was soon destroyed as dinner was finally ready.
My colorful childhood was spent in the south where the sweet fragrance of peaches and pecans grew. Running up and down the cotton field to reach the old shed where the Pickin’ Party was held every spring still plagues my memory. Campers lined up in the grass, as everyone greeted each other. The endless smell of southern food made people line up. I can still hear the beautiful sounds of bluegrass ringing through the perfectly green trees. The blissful laughter and music seemed to last all night. My mom’s voice is forever embedded into my young mind, as she tells me to “not talk to strangers”, but these southern strangers who ate pecan pie and played banjos were the most welcoming and sweetest people. My sister and I would go from camper to camper listening to their crazy stories and tales they told us. As the campers pulled away one last time, and the smell of food disappeared into the night, so did a part of my childhood.
Our secluded one story house down in Georgia is filled with memories, some of which I no longer remember. Family game nights, Christmas mornings, playing outside on our slip and slide, and Mcdonald’s play place filled our youthful hearts.The chicken nuggets we “only came to Mcdonalds for” were soon forgotten as we reached the huge maze of spiral tunnels. Pretending to be stuck in the colorful tubes so we could play longer was our specialty. Although my mom wasn’t too pleased to be at the play place with a bunch of screaming kids, she knew we wouldn’t be kids forever. Games nights were a regular thing in our home, it varied from playing mom’s nintendo to Monopoly. As my mom was rolling doubles countless times, I was buying Park Avenue, while my sister went bankrupt, she scurried to find more money. We got lost in this world of fun, that now is so far away.
“ Mom, I don’t want to go to bed now! Five more minutes?” I vividly hear myself ask my mom. I miss having a bedtime.
“I don’t want to watch Max and Ruby.” I miss watching Max and Ruby while sitting at my princess table eating fruity pebbles.
“Go outside and be a kid.” I constantly heard grown ups saying. I miss going outside and “being a kid”
“I wish I could go back.” I type out on my computer, as I sit in my dull college classroom.