part 1:
ages 0-10: my childhood sounds like the beautiful melodies of wind chimes, being moved around by the light winds. it is peaceful. I am happy. I feel passionate & loving.
ages 10-14: my childhood is fading away. I no longer hear wind chimes. where have they gone? instead I heard the cries of loved ones, as they leave the physical world & join together as angels. demons are forming in my head, I try to fight them. sometimes they win. it is chaos. I am lost. I feel drowned & sorrow.
ages: 14-16: my childhood is a thing of the past. what happened? I hear the subtle music of wind chimes & faint cries of loved ones. I miss my childhood, but I'm looking forward to adulthood. there are still demons, but I think I'm winning this battle. I am finding myself. I feel overwhelmed, but overcoming.
(j.m.l.)
part 2:
I am sixteen years old, not yet an adult, but no longer a child. my childhood seems so long ago, but it really wasn't all that long ago.
I still remember the wind chimes singing outside of my nonno & nonna's house. I was always outside when I was at their house. in the summer, my nonno used to fill up this little blue plastic kid pool with water, just up to a little above my ankles because the water was extremely cold. I didn't mind though. I used to try to splash the wind chimes with water to force them to make music. I loved the water, & my nonno too.
I remember the sound of the kite catching the wind as my nonno would let it go up to kiss the clouds. my nonno wouldn't let me run with the kite, he said I'd end up flying away with it, & he wouldn't wanna lose his "little Gelsomina". I didn't mind, I held onto the spool of string with my nonno. that little field in itasca sure was beautiful, & so was my nonno's heart.
I remember going on bike rides with my nonno. when I was really little, I'd sit in a child's seat hooked up to the back of his bike. as I grew older I was eventually able to ride on my own bike along side him. soon after, my brother would go through the same process. I liked those bike rides, we would always ride to my zia rena's & zio tony's, they lived only a couple blocks away. the sounds of the bike chains, I still remember those.
I remember holidays the most, I also miss holidays the most. the whole family was over; every thanksgiving, christmas, & easter. my nonno & nonna's house would always smell of wonderful italian cooking. italians know how to celebrate: with food, lots & lots of food. I remember how close we all were. I remember hearing everyone's voices jumble into one loud choir of English & Italian.
they were the glue to held us all together, now we've all broken apart. I miss it. I miss all of it.
I still remember hearing the despair in his voice, seeing the hurt in his eyes, feeling how weak he was. my nonno suffered from severe depression, it became worse within his early sixties. I distinctly remember this one conversation I had with him. I asked him if he was okay, & he said "I will be soon bella, I will be soon." tears were forming in his eyes, they slowly trickled down his face. three days later, on a sunny April day, I lost my nonno to a horrifying fall & a blow to the head; I still don't know the whole story.
I still remember hearing the despair in her voice, seeing the hurt in her eyes, feeling how weak she was. my nonna developed lung cancer soon after my nonno passed. she was a smoker, she quit for awhile though. but after my nonno became worse, my nonna caved. she became a heavy smoker, & soon came the worst. she was in her early sixties, still beautiful as ever. it was stage four lung cancer; the worst stage. she fought long & hard, & eventually the cancer won. the evening before my fourteenth birthday, I lost my nonna due to a procedure that was supposed to help reduce the cancer; I still don't know the whole story.
I am sixteen years old, not yet an adult, but no longer a child. my childhood seems so long ago, but it really wasn't all that long ago.
I yearn for my childhood back, because I miss being young & unbeknownst about the world. the world is scary, reality is scary. I miss being in my own little fantasy, where everything was perfect & everyone was pure.
I miss hearing the Italian roll off his tongue without a problem, & I miss hearing the country tunes being sung by her without any hesitation. I miss what I can't have back. I miss what I will always have in my heart, but no longer physically with me.
my childhood sounded like a beautiful symphony, but the strings are slowly becoming out of tune.
(j.m.l.)
