Posts Tagged ‘worried about college’

The Day Before

Thursday, October 20th, 2011

On the way to Stanford.

The rusted grass on the side of the road looked familiar, as if it had scratched the backs of my legs in a dream years ago. And the brush I must have run through, red powdery flowers staining my fingers as I scraped past—but it was too real to have been a dream. I’d traveled this road before (the car crawling up the highway) and I used to imagine my hands trailing on the road as we blew past the rolling hills of rusted grass and red-stained brush. They’d blister, like the sun on the roof of our car.

It’s hard for me to imagine just how big the great state of California is and in comparison the smallness of my town, my house, my microscopic room… and I had to leave my little niche in the world, the place I’d carved out. And yet, I realize that my parents cut out a piece of the world and set me in, let me grow bigger, helped me make that space my own as I grew into myself. I know that I’ve outgrown that cave. My head scrapes the ceiling, my legs press against the hard rock.

My pianoI ran my hands over the painted walls of the house, felt the creaking hard wood that screamed to the world I was awake at midnight on those endless Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Goodbye. I caressed the ivory keys of my piano next and mourned the end of my physical ownership of it—it will always be my parent’s piano now, the piano of my childhood, the piano I play when I go home… but never mine. The piano of Liszt and Beethoven and Turina and Debussy and even Bill Boyd (my favorite composer during those early years) is no longer mine, for I’m off to caress other keys, make other connections. But memories are just as solid as real things, if not more so; their heartbeats can be stronger than our own. Wait: I stand corrected. Emotional memories. The way it felt. The way it will always feel. (more…)