I dreamt of a time when growing up and doing “grown up” things was important.
Going to the mall, the fair, or a football game without a parent
were the important goals in life.
But still, growing up meant losing that childhood innocence.
The first car meant getting a first job.
Being free meant being responsible.
Freedom with conditions.
I knew of independence, but I also knew the rules.

I knew those lost childhood days,
playing softball in the middle of summer, coming home with every inch of body covered in dirt.
Staying out late, playing tag with the other neighborhood children.
Jumping on the trampoline on a nice fall day, the cool breeze floating past my body as I turn and jump, hitting my face as I drift asleep.
Racing to the swings at recess (the “cool kids” toy) to see who could go
the highest and making extravagant jewelry from the fields of flowers that
grew beyond them.

I loved those days, but can’t go back.
Instead, I met myself in the middle, taking knowledge and dreams into that next stage of life.
Responsibility comes in many forms: school, homework, involvement, work, living on my own.
I remember those childhood days and defiant years.
I’m not throwing them away, but putting them in a safe place while life goes on.
I hear the bell tower chime – it’s time for class.