The Older We Get The Less We Know

I did a lot this summer. Experienced things I had never before. Many firsts and many lasts. An emotional ride, but one that brought me around bends that I needed, dips that let me know, hills that allowed me to see, and falls that put me into place.

It is strange leaving good things. To look in a rear view mirror and watch as my miniature town becomes a childhood memory. 17/18 years of my life I have lived here. I walked down the same rust stained sidewalk with weeds growing in between the space that separates the walkers from the drivers. I’ve watched season after season the same trees lose leaves in a raining orange haven and be so cold and spindly in the white cast and bloom full and rich again each spring into summer. I remember jumping into piles and exploring the lake in the backyard (which is now more like an overgrown puddle) while waiting for the coolest bus driver to come by and take us off to elementary school. I remember putting on plays in the fenced corner and seeing the audience’s attention lose tolerance because the older you get the less you understand, and that is just a part of growing up.

We used to pretend to be lions and wizards, imaginary and older, super and equestrian, and so on and so on. I think on it, and realize I lost that part of me. You say you can, but do you think you can just burst into character right now as a pink fox or a princess that is only restricted to the living room? We used to be able to, but now I find that I am more into living life as if apart of the movies that express the simple things. The ones with amazing camera angles and interesting compositions. Full of tiny moments that we often over look: the forgetful phrases, the soft touches, the way the light shines in through the dirty windows, the quiet beats of slow music, the laughter while with friends in unusual places, the weather and the wind’s whipping dance, the careful breathing of pets, the car rides that don’t lead us to where we expected to go, the flickering flame of a scented candle or a burning marshmallow roast, the aging color of pages in an underdog book, the long hallways that can look darker than they actually are, the trail walks that are lit by a split beam, the sentimental talks and silence, the messages that make you smile, the pooling tears that present love, the late nights where it is impossible to keep your eyes open, the sleeps that are anxious to wake to a new sun and then later to a new moon, and the dreams that never make sense and never will.

And I will be watching this movie for as long as it will play for me. Because adding one to a number every year is harder for adults than it is for children. But I am here to say that this summer has been my very best. And even if I may not want to just yet, we are pushed to move on and with that are requirements.

For me goodbyes are the worst of things. We can not be so sure whether it will be the last. And so every bye is now more enforced than it should, but I just would feel uneasy if I did not close the hello properly. Relationships are work, and I will try to punch in as often as I can so I won’t be fired, but not every job works out, and that is what frightens me. You always walk through the doors so optimistic and excited, but who knows how you will feel when you leave.

I loved my time, and I love the people I spent it with. This is my goodbye to you, I hope to see you all very soon, because the movie screen feels duller without your picture in it.

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3 thoughts on “The Older We Get The Less We Know

  1. Arica,

    To my sweet niece, we have watched you grow up into an incredible woman (very quickly I may add) Uncle Ricky and and I wish you an amazing future that we know you will succeed
    with flying colors! You will do great as you always have, at everything you do! Keep on this same path and life will have much to offer you. We are not allowing you to say goodbye, just ciao for now and we will see you soon in NYC. Love you soo much!!!

    Aunt Diana and Uncle Ricky 💞

  2. That was lovely, Arica. I hope your time at Fordham is wonderful and memorable. You’re so good at discovering and holding onto those important moments, even those that don’t seem monumental. Best of luck, sweetie. I love you. Cindy.

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