This past week, I scheduled my classes for next year. My advisor was happy with my progress because I'm right on track to graduate on time. It was when he said that that I had one of those "I can't believe I'm growing up" moments. I'm right on track to graduate. From college! Am I really going to be a junior next year? It seems like just two days ago I was a scared freshman at Kent State. Now here I am, 20 years old and signing up for a class called Traditional and Modern Grammars. I'm researching literary journals where I could submit my writing to hopefully be published. It's quite odd to think about sometimes.
There are other things that make me realize I'm getting older. Four of my friends are getting married this summer. I couldn't be happier for them, but it's so strange to think I'm at that age now where people I know personally are taking that step. One of my good friends just released her first book. Her first book! I'm so proud of her. And yes, I'm going to shamelessly plug it. It's called Confessions of a Prodigal Daughter by Sarahbeth Caplin. You can buy it on Amazon!
While these things make me feel like I'm getting older, there's still a part of me that feels perpetually 12 years old. The first night I was home for Easter break, my sisters and I built a fort in our living room. I still like to watch cartoons (Looney Tunes and Tom and Jerry are my favorite). It's not unlikely for me to read a Garfield comic book before bed. Or Calvin and Hobbes. And some days, all I want to do is sit on my couch with a blanket and watch Hey Arnold.
I honestly think I'll still have that side of me even when I'm seventy. And I would encourage you, or whoever is reading this, to not forget that part of yourself. Hold onto that childlike excitement. That carefree spirit. You never know how important it could be in your life.
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