Another year, another birthday. I am absolutely in adult-age territory now. It still doesn’t feel like I am, though. When do you start feeling like an adult? Is it something that hits you like a ton of bricks? Or is it more like a gradual fade into adultness? It seems it varies greatly from person to person. I asked my mom when she started to feel like an adult and it looks like due to her particular circumstances in the Philippines, she was kind of obligated to become one while she was just a teenager. Made me feel extremely lucky and grateful to have experienced life as I have thus far. Thanks, mom and dad. I owe my entire healthy, happy experience growing up to them. Recompense is forthcoming. And I hope that someday I can provide a similar foundation for my future children grow up on, too.
My mom and I made beef and broccoli together yesterday.
It’s not unusual for children to develop imaginary friends, and I was definitely no exception. My mom says when I was around three years old, I had two of these imaginary friends at our old creepy house in Delaware: an older woman named Mrs. Brown and a little boy named Charlie. My mom said she’d often hear me talking to the both of them around the house, and she noticed that these instances occurred around a very specific time – 3:00pm. Kind of peculiar I suppose, but if you think about it, is it really that strange? Probably not. Except for this one incident that occurred one day while my mom and I were in the backyard where there are no clocks.
My mother tells me I was just playing around beside her while she hung up our laundry to dry in the afternoon sun, when suddenly I immediately stopped what I was doing, gazed up at a second story window of the house and said, “Mrs. Brown is calling me. I’m going to go inside and play now.” My mom looked at her watch. 3:00pm.