I made my mother a CD for valentine’s day. Its something I’ve never done before, but I didn’t get to the florist or to the mall, so I figured why not? So I sat down at trusty old Alice (I just named my computer right this second, so now I’m gonna call it Alice) and I downloaded songs that reminded me of being in the car with my mom, mostly when she was dropping us off and picking us up from school. Back then I thought the Carpenters were cool and that everyone listened to country music. I didn’t even know county was another genre altogether. I thought it was just, well, music. And, while I was reminiscing about the time when I was more than notguilty, when I was actually innocent, I started to get a little sad. I wish it wasn’t true, that youth was wasted on the young. I wish, sometimes, I could go back and be nicer to my parents, be better, be more understanding. I wish I hadn’t said I hate you as many times as I did, or think they truly did not understand me.
But then I realized that all I could do was be better now, and maybe someday, if I ever manage to get pregnant and have a child, to try to be half as good as my parents were.
