I have this long, flowing light pink kimono that my mother passed down to me a long while ago. I remember admiring how beautiful she looked in it when she walked around in the morning doing mom-type things. There used to be a rocking chair in my room that sat between my brother's bed and mine. My mother would wear the long pink kimono and sit in the rocking chair while she read us bed-time stories. (I know this all seems unrealistically picturesque, but that's because I'm choosing not to describe the mess in the bedroom and the chair's ugly, green upholstery. Also, after my mom gave me the kimono, I got a ketchup stain on it. Never bothered to wash it out. Still wear the kimono.)
But back to the nostalgic mood I was establishing.
Even at a really young age, thinking about the future made me anxious. Of course I loved thinking about how one day I would be a powerful, wealthy--emphasis on wealthy, and also powerful--adult. Except my thoughts weren't always daydreams. Whenever my brother and I argued, our parents told us that one day they'd be gone and that we'd only have each other. Taking this a little too far, I often thought about how hard my life would be without my parents--often to tears. Specifically, I remember lying in bed one night and thinking about me as an adult, living without my parents. I pictured myself sitting in a chair in a dark room, wearing the pink kimono, and looking down at a child (most likely mine). My eyes stung with tears as I thought about how sad and lost I would be without my parents. Let me just emphasize that I didn't have these thoughts at age thirteen or fifteen or whatever. I must have been a little less than ten years old when I first went down this path, so I was understandably afraid of being without my parents.
This September I'm going to be attending university, and I'm still scared.
Long before college was a realistic concern, I started thinking about move in day. Every time I think about leaving home with my belongings in boxes, driving to some university, and filling an empty dorm with my stuff, I get kind of anxious. Every time I think of saying goodbye to my parents and my brother and walking back to that dorm alone, I nearly start crying. Thinking about that years ago was hard--now it's just terrifying. Obviously I have to move forward--and I want to! But the fact that my life is going to change so drastically so soon is frightening. Sure, you could say it's exciting and new, but I've never been much of an optimist. Every last scrap of my optimism is currently directed towards convincing myself that I am completely capable of living on my own. Hopefully, I'm right. We'll see. Only time will tell. Too cheesy? Nah, this is a nostalgic post. It's no good if it's not a little cheesy.