Home » Through The Ages

I remember it well, the way I once was. To be young again, to be free of self-conscious though t and misconceptions, to be spirited, confident and free. This year had been the first time I had seen a large part of my Italian family - some of the aunts, uncles and cousins I had never met before. We met up all together in an old apartment belonging to my long-gone great grandparents, and the Christmas family spirit hit you like the cold outside.

 

It was rather surreal to be there as a pronounced adult - eighteen years young and no longer observing the surroundings from the ground up. I could now tell rather than be told, I was approached with an almost standback respect, and not a cuddly embrace. It felt good.

 

As I watched carefully to the traditions unfolding, I noticed in particular the kids. They were so excited at the idea of Christmas, it was almost as if I didn't remember how that felt. They'd skid past from under the buffet table, raid the buffet food itself, and you could be sure that the enchanting melodies coming from the piano forte in the other room - titleless masterpieces - were also their works of greatness.

 

I hurried over to get myself some food, as well, and was quick to return to my seat. In an apartment that small, space to rest was limited and thus you quickly learned to keep and guard if you'd been one of the lucky early arrivals. As I bent to sit back, I felt something beneath me. A quick squeal revealed my newest female cousin, Laura, with the best satisfied, mischevious look about her, tucking herself into my seat from underneath. Well played, I thought, and resided to the spare arm of the sofa.

 

It may seem a little out there to have thought this, but at that moment I felt I recognised myself and my character in little Laura. I loved how carefree she seemed about her actions, craving to be part of the world she'd created for herself all around her, of which she reigned the centre. And suddenly, nostalgically, I missed my youth.

 

I missed not having worries, preoccupations, hang-ups, but instead being out there for myself and having the best time of my life. I missed how easy everything was, and how open I could be about how I felt. If I was hurt, I'd cry - there would be no bottling it up until it all came out on its own. If I was feeling affectionate, I'd find mum or dad, or any family that was around, and give them a long hug or a kiss on the cheek. Emotions were so easily exchanged.

 

I realise, of course, that life can never be unchanging. We each have our shot at being young, being adult, getting old. And that's it. What we should really do is embrace the age we are, exploit it for all it's worth, make sure that we miss that specific year when we are bent and aching, just because it was that damn fabulous.

 

The nostalgia did not last long, and rapidly I sat back and resumed my observations. I smiled at how fun it was to be on my end of things now - the eldest cousin who can watch the young ones, and take them under her wing. I laughed, thinking back to how awful an embarassment of a child I must have been - and I loved it. When you think that way, you know you've done it right.