My childhood

I still remember some of it. Maybe it’s from the pictures, or it’s from stories my mother has told me. Or maybe not. I still seem to remind my mother of things she thought I had forgotten.

I remember moving a lot. At times for visits and other times for different reasons. I remember the snow falls in Kiev. I remember the hill I rode my sled down. I remember the garden of fruits. Picking blackberries, strawberries and raspberries only to have them sprinkled with sugar.

I remember the few friends I had. The great distances they lived from me. I remember my school, my teachers and my favorite milkshake joint. I miss a lot of it. The simple life. Most of all I miss my dog. I remember when my mom brought her from Moscow. She was a little puppy. I remember desperately waiting for her to outgrow me in order to give me rides around the house.

Looking back I see how much I have changed. I remember how hard it was for me and my mom to adapt to our surroundings. I remember tearing up during my first day of school. I remember being worried about fitting in. I have to admit it was difficult at first, but things got easier over time.

I’m now in my third year of my undergraduate degree. I seem to remember junior high school (IS 145) more concretely than I do high school (Aviation). I remember standing from my seat to answer every question (since that’s what I did in Ghana). I remember being scared to go to the restroom because I would miss some of the material. I remember writing about the Lion King on my citywide examination (not much literature taught in Ghana). I recall the fear I had walking into social studies (not knowing any American history). I remember being placed into an ESL (English as a second language) class.

I feel I’ve come a long way.

I never thought we (my mom and I) would come this far. I would have jumped with joy if my current life was predicted to happen, but I still feel I could have done better. I seem to forget what and where I came from. I sometimes think of myself on a leveled playing field. I mistakingly feel we all started from the same origin, all have the same feelings, same thoughts. Looking back into the past I begin to understand my upbringing. I realize why I feel different. I understand why I carry out my plans differently.

I try to plan and prepare for the future. What and who can it bring? At times I’m clueless. I feel I’ve played my cards correctly, only to find chance being the dealer of the deck. I guess time will tell.