My six-year-old was giggling in her normal, infectious way for no apparent reason. I wished that I could bottle up that moment and save it for a rainy day. I know this joyful little lady will likely get more serious as the years go on but I want her to stay this innocent forever.
So I whispered to her, “I hope you stay silly and giggly forever.” She smiled, stopped laughing, and looked me right in the eye to tell me, “I don’t want you to ever change, Mommy.” This made me laugh; it seemed strange to think of not changing. Because like it or not, I will change. In fact, I need to continue to change, to be better, to learn new things and apply them to my life. I need to keep moving forward and taking on new challenges. I’m still growing. And even more literally, so is she.
This funny exchange reminded me of my old year books. I probably have about a hundred notes in year books over the years telling me “don’t ever change.” How naive we were to think that we could will someone to stay the same through life’s ups and downs, twists and turns, and all of the experiences that we hadn’t even yet dreamed of living!
I started digging through my treasures from childhood-the things my parents thought should be saved for me over the years. I was actually hunting for my year books but I stumbled across so many sweet memories and mementos instead. I found teeny tiny t-shirts from my first sports activities and team photos to go along with them. I found school reports and stories I’d written, some fact and some fiction. I loved using my siblings and cousins as the main characters in my writing. I wrote a story about a monster named AdnamaElykYkcin, which was a combination of my sibling’s names (Amanda, Kyle, Nicky all cleverly spelled backward). Very subtle.
Every time I dive into my old box of memories I find something that I don’t remember seeing before. I love taking it all in through my older, wiser perspective. My absolute favorite find this time around was a small red envelope full of cards from my childhood neighbors who became my best friends when I was three years old. On one card that I received for my eleventh birthday I saw a sweet note that brought me to tears; mostly tears of joy and nostalgia but then tears of sadness for the amount of space that has come between us. No matter what happens you and I will always be best friends. I bet we told each other back in the day, “don’t ever change.”
What if we could save up and chronicle the experiences that have helped us to grow into who we are today just like my parents saved these special childhood memories for me? For instance, this childhood friendship helped me to learn about kindness and love. Losing a grandparent helped me to relate to others when they are grieving. Seeing a friend gone way too soon pushed me to reflect on how I’m spending my time while I’m here. And moving three thousand miles away from my friends and family forced me to branch out beyond my comfort zone. In the moment, all of these things were just life. Now, they are life lessons; they are the changes that made me “me.”
So while I desperately want to freeze this moment in time to keep my children preserved in this perfect state of youth and innocence, my wish for them is not that they “stay the same.” My wish for them is that they grow and change with all that life brings them. That they know that while they are out there living life, they are becoming tomorrow’s self. That they are perfect today and that they will be a different perfect tomorrow. That moments and experiences cannot be bottled up or frozen in time, but they can be remembered with fondness and can bring you joy for decades to come. That life is most beautiful when we embrace it. So embrace it. And that I’m here to hold them, love them, and support them through it all.