Nostalgia is a funny thing.
It is amazing to me that I can sit here and listen to a recording of myself singing a song when I was merely four years old, and while I’m listening I can want to laugh and cry at the same time. I remember that night when mom was going to let us sing a song on to a tape. I remember waiting patiently until it was my turn. I remember singing and thinking I was so grown up, and I did a really good job. Mom didn’t even have to help me!
I suppose it really wasn’t that bad. Listening to it now, I can’t help but cringe. Could I have been more off key? I don’t think so. But it is sweet, and cute, and I’m glad I have something like this to remind me of what I was like when I was young.
I don’t really feel like I’m getting older. I know that I am, but everything still feels the same. My father-in-law tells me that this is one of the secrets of aging – you don’t age unless you feel like it. It doesn’t matter how the package looks on the outside, everything on the inside is still you. I look in the mirror and can’t believe that I’ll be 22 next year. I don’t think I look that much older. I don’t think the wrinkle on my left cheek makes me old. I found a gray hair once. Does that make me old?
If I’m as old as I feel, then I’m about 15.