On the corner of Pollard Drive in Tyler, Texas sits a charming little house. It’s nothing special – just a one-story brick house with a two-car garage and a well-kept garden. Just over the wooden fence that encloses the yard, 8-year-old me stood next to the trampoline, working on a school project about the solar system.
Stretching across the width of the yard were all sorts of things – some sport balls, rocks and other miscellaneous items, lined up to symbolize the solar system. As I recall the things that Mrs. Costanza taught us over the last few weeks, I use this line to visualize the size of the planets and distance between them. Until I’m brought back to Earth by the quiet creak of the back door to the house opening. I turned around to see my mom walking outside.
“How’s it going out here?”
“Pretty good, just making a kind of model here.”
“Sounds pretty good. How about a lunch break? I made you a PB&J and some fruit.”
“Yeah, sure. I’m kinda hungry.”
She smiled at me before turning around and walking back inside. As I followed her, the sun went behind a cloud and the breeze picked up a bit. The world gets just a little bit darker and I heard the sound of the wind flowing. For a moment, I turned around and looked back at the model of the solar system and felt proud of the project. For just a moment, I gave a light smile.
It was a nice, simple life. There, my mom and I had everything we needed. The house was always clean and organized and the days were quiet, save my dog barking at a car driving by. The homework I was assigned was fun to do and rewarding. If I could, I would have stayed in that little house forever.
Excited for that peanut butter sandwich, I turned around and followed my mom inside.
• • •
That day would end up being one of my fondest memories from when I lived in Tyler. It was also seven months before I would end up permanently moving 200 miles away.
This move proved to be the biggest transition of my life. All of a sudden, I was living in a new house, going to a new school, in a new life. Now that I’m finally comfortable with this new life, I find myself worrying about yet another transition that’s coming soon.
Back in Tyler, the biggest things to worry about were staying up past 10 PM and writing a soppy love letter to my third-grade crush. I didn’t have to worry about getting a job, applying to college or finding somewhere to live. Although, maybe that transition from Tyler to here has prepared me for what’s to come.
When I turned 16, I realized my life has been split into two parts: The first eight years in Tyler, and the last eight years here. It was terrifying then to leave Tyler and start a new life in a new town.
It’s terrifying now, thinking about what I’m going to major in, or how in the world I’m going to pay for tuition. But over the last eight years that I’ve lived here, I’ve joined so many programs that have given me even more opportunities. As I enter my fourth semester on the newspaper staff and sixth semester in JROTC, I start yet another eighteen weeks with the remarkable people that I’ve had the opportunity to work with. Though I often wish to relive the days in Tyler, this life here in Flower Mound has been just as great.
Now that there’s even more years ahead, along with a whole new life, it’s time to finally let go of those days
As I think about going back, I realize something important – the past is final. We can’t relive it. But I’m fortunate enough to have those great memories. Even though those days are over, the future holds even more opportunities to make even better memories.
