I Am Every Age I Have Ever Been

I am every age I’ve ever been. All time ever does is pass, and all I ever do is remember.

I am 6. My grandpa comes home from work. I have been waiting for him the whole day. He should've been home by now. He isn't. He's my favorite person in the entire world. What I don't realize is that he went to Toys "R" Us after working the whole day. He went to buy me the Polly Pocket dolls I've been mentioning a lot lately. He comes home, hiding something behind his back.

"What are you hiding, gramps?" I ask him.

He lifts the corner of his lip and smirks at me, pulling out the Toys "R" Us bag. I squeal in joy and jump into his arms. He pulls out the dolls and spends the whole evening playing with me. I'm happy. Grandpa looks a little pale. I think nothing of it. I'm sure he's fine.

When the day is almost over, I don't want to go to bed. I want to play dolls with gramps forever. Mom makes me go to bed. I protest. I cry. In the end, I go to sleep sad that I'll never experience this day again. I'm only 6.

A year later, my grandpa is dead. They tell me it's Cancer.

I'll never get to play Polly Pocket with him again. Or go on walks. Or annoy him until he takes me with him while he runs errands.

I'm 7, and I will never be the girl I once was.

So, at 7, I get hit by a wave of nostalgia. I don't know the feeling. I don't know what it's called, but I know I'm feeling it. Only six years later will I realize what I had actually been feeling was grief drenched in nostalgia. I still miss my grandpa a lot.

I'm 10. Until now, I was an only child. Today, I finally got the little sister I've always been wishing for. I'm so happy. The first time I see her, I cry. She wraps her small hand around my pointer finger. I am now an older sister. I will carry that title with honor. She's my light. I will protect her forever.

At night, I fall asleep thinking about how everything's going to be different now. I'm no longer an only child. I fall asleep with a faint smile on my face and a tear sliding down my cheek. Grandpa will never meet his second granddaughter. She will never know him. She will never have the privilege of being his granddaughter. He will never spoil her or take her to the playground.

I am 11 now. My best friend and I have been in the same class since first grade. We were even in kindergarten together. We've known each other forever. Our moms are best friends.

We finish fourth grade. My parents are so proud of me. My grades were so good. I'm happy, but I also get this weird feeling in my stomach. My best friend and I won't be in the same grade after this. I smile through the whole day, but at night, I cry, knowing everything is going to change once again.

I am 12. I hate my new class. I don't feel like I belong. My grades are getting bad because I'm not happy. My best friend doesn't talk to me right now. I don't even know what we were arguing about.

I am 14. My teacher hates me. I don't know what happened to the bright, gifted child I once was. I miss my grandpa. My best friend reassures me everything will be fine. My only friend in class is moving to China. I hate this class. I fail seventh grade.

My dad wants to send me to a school with lower secondary education. The teacher who hates me tells me I don't belong with all these bright, gifted children. I digress. I'm stubborn. Because of that, I tell him I will continue higher secondary education. I will show him. I will show them all.

I am 15 now. My new class is great. I'm in class with a lot of my old childhood friends. I'm happy. It will take me a while to realize that I met my new guy best friend in this very class. We fight a lot, but I know he'll be my best friend forever. My grades get better. My dad is no longer disappointed in me.

I go to sleep still with the anxiety of the 14-year-old I once was who disappointed her parents. I don't want to disappoint them again. In my sleep, I dream of grandpa and me. It's him and I at the playground. I'm on the swing, and he's pushing me. When I wake up, my pillow is wet. I realize I must have been crying in my sleep. I'm 15, but it feels like yesterday when my gramps died. I still miss him a lot.

When I'm 16, the world feels like it's in the palm of my hand. My grades are great. My parents are proud. I even got a B in math. That hasn't happened in a while. It's also my birthday. I don't quite remember what we did that day. All I know is that I was happy.

At night, however, dread fills my stomach because I know I will never live this day again. I wish I could stay 16 forever.

I'm 17, and it's the day before I turn 18. It's just a Wednesday, so I think we won't do anything. I'll probably spend the day with my parents. My little sister turned eight four days ago. She's grown up a lot. I hope she won't hate me when she's older.

My mom tells me to sleep over at my best friend's house. It's a Tuesday during a school week, so it's unusual. I don't question it. My best friend and I talk until it's midnight. When the clock strikes twelve, I'm 18. She hugs me. We're happy.

Later, I lay awake, staring at her ceiling. I realize grandpa will never see me turn 18. In my sleep, I dream of grandpa and me. It's him and I at the playground again. I'm on the swing, and he's pushing me.

I am 18. My birthday begins with a school trip. We are supposed to sit in a few university courses to figure out what we would like to do after graduation. I choose a law course. My boy best friend sits next to me. This is scary. How are we supposed to know what we want to do with our lives? I don't want to grow up. Growing up is scary.

The Professor is talking about international law, but all I can think about is how I still feel like the 16-year-old I once was. The 15-year-old who found new friends. The 14-year-old who disappointed her parents. The 11-year-old who was scared to go to a big school. The 10-year-old who finally became a sister.

And most of all, I still feel like the 7-year-old who just lost her grandpa.

I am every age I have ever been.

We return from the school trip. My aunt's husband picks me up. He drives me around and tells me to put on a blindfold. I don't question him. When he takes it off, I'm at a surprise party with about seventy people. Friends. Family. Everyone. My mom organized all of this for me.

I realize I am loved.

My dad gives a speech. He tells everyone he spent days putting together a video for my birthday. He says it was hard because of all the videos of my grandpa and I. He says he left those clips out because no one, especially me, would be able to stop crying if they saw them.

He chokes up. He says he loves me; then he tells me grandpa loved me a lot. He says he wishes his dad were here to see me all grown up. For the first time, I really realize not only had I lost my grandpa, but my dad lost his Father, too. I hear a soft weep and turn my head to see who it is. The space between us is barely a fleeting breath away. It's my aunt, my comfort person. I realize it doesn't matter that it's been 11 years since grandpa passed; in a way, our love for him haunts us all. I cry in my grandma's arms.

The video plays. They are memories of my childhood. Nostalgia hits me again.

I am every age I've ever been.

I am every age I've ever been.

I am every age I've ever been.

I go to bed and realize this day is now a memory, too. One I'll hold dear forever.

I'm 23 now. I've chosen a path. Some days are hard. Others are beautiful. When I lay awake in my dorm room, I long for home.

And I dread losing the people I love.

I am 23, but I am also 7, 10, 15, 18. All time ever does is pass, and all I ever do is remember.

So, when you're 20, 30, 40, or 50, be kind to yourself.

You, too, are every age you've ever been.

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