As I was walking home from being at Forest Road Elementary, after reading "Persuasion" and listening to the Chronicles of Narnia on my i-pod, I realized something. I think I've been realizing it all week, but I didn't fully comprehend it until my walk home in the summer afternoon sun.
It is possible that I will live another seventy years. I thought I was half-way through life, but it turns out that I'm not even close. Imagine that. Seventy years to go to college, learn, live, grow, fall in love, marry an amazing person, have children, sing, cook, clean, grow old, drink lemonade, play piano and violin, write, dance, get wrinkled, and then have a very satisfying funeral.
Of course, after serving the people I love, and the people I try to love.
I have a lot of time to do a lot of amazing things. Or not. The future is ahead and I'm going to go to sleep soon. I can't believe you are supposed to spend a third of your life sleeping. It's not time wasted, of course. Sleep is good.
Actually, I did do something today. I planted marigold and some lavender. I didn't want to at first, but mom and I have been trying to get a garden growing for the past few years, and we're going to do it this year. Less quantity, more quality, and more vegetables/fruit actually surviving. It felt so good to be outside in the light, near good-smelling plants and good-smelling grass and mosquitoes. I did something. I love to push the soft and fragile flower into the ground, and then push the dirt over the roots and pack down the dirt with my fingertips. I walked inside with dirt in my fingernails.
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