Mother
This was written on February 1st, 2005 at 9: 42 pm, but I never published it. So here it is.
Study session at Nathan's house last night, my mind is everywhere but on the road. I am driving safely and very aware of those around me, but I am not focused on them. The drive began with another car almost taking out the front part of Mr. Penn's station wagon, but I am back near my own neighborhood and feeling pretty safe. I pull up to a light and I am in the outer left turn lane.
Looking over my left shoulder into the inner left turn lane has a woman driving and a child in the passenger seat. It is late, almost ten, and the little girl is leaned up against the door and has her head against the glass. She is completely asleep. Studying her position of rest I think back to my own girlhood.
It seems like I wear my age as a badge or a weight. For most 18 is a gift, to me it is simply another label. I am old, but not old enough, so I keep growing. The girl lies there completely asleep. As a kid, I could never fall asleep in the car unless I was completely exhausted. Perhaps that girl is. I wonder how old she will be when she loses her innocence. I wonder how old I was when I lost mine.
I am thirty, in the body of a teenager, all I want is to escape. Freedom from my age. I want the world to know how old I truly am.
Study session at Nathan's house last night, my mind is everywhere but on the road. I am driving safely and very aware of those around me, but I am not focused on them. The drive began with another car almost taking out the front part of Mr. Penn's station wagon, but I am back near my own neighborhood and feeling pretty safe. I pull up to a light and I am in the outer left turn lane.
Looking over my left shoulder into the inner left turn lane has a woman driving and a child in the passenger seat. It is late, almost ten, and the little girl is leaned up against the door and has her head against the glass. She is completely asleep. Studying her position of rest I think back to my own girlhood.
It seems like I wear my age as a badge or a weight. For most 18 is a gift, to me it is simply another label. I am old, but not old enough, so I keep growing. The girl lies there completely asleep. As a kid, I could never fall asleep in the car unless I was completely exhausted. Perhaps that girl is. I wonder how old she will be when she loses her innocence. I wonder how old I was when I lost mine.
I am thirty, in the body of a teenager, all I want is to escape. Freedom from my age. I want the world to know how old I truly am.
posted by Nat Rivera at 10:34 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home