Thoughts about being 8

Deep down, we're all just grown up versions of who we were when we were about 8 years old. I am just now discovering this - at least *I* feel this way, and frankly, for my daughter's case I hope it's true. She's the coolest 8 year old I know.

When I was 8 years old I was alone. I have been thinking a lot about that lately. Being alone when I was 8, I mean. Growing up in Elementary school, I was pretty much the one everyone just ignored. I was a very different child, living in a dream world all the time. Yet, I was 100% cognizant that no one around me was interested in what I had to say and what I did.

Being alone as a child is an extremely lonesome feeling. I remember thinking about the fact that every teacher rolled her eyes when I would come to them with questions. So I stopped coming with questions at all. I would skate by in class because back then the school system still had that invisible banner hanging over my head pointing at me saying "not bright". Maybe they thought I didn't even understand enough at that age to notice when two teachers looked at me and whispered. Or when the rest of the class was making a giant dinosaur from newspaper and flour-glue and I was sitting at my desk reading. Or why I enjoyed reading group best (and eventually got my degree in English) - because my reading group was small and people were forced to read aloud. It felt like we were all talking to each other.

At age 8, my reality was that of a single young woman. I was on my own and had a lot of freedom - but not enough experience to know how to handle all of it responsibly. Sometimes I think back now to the things I did, the behaviors I had and I roll my eyes and wish it was someone else's life I was remembering. I remember having a feeling sometimes that I was floating above myself, watching me go through the motions of the reality that was my life (waking, dressing, eating breakfast, walking to school, going to class, leaving school, meandering home slowly and with a scattered little child's mind and then heading home for a couple more hours before my mother came home for the day).

When I was 8, I lived inside television. Mentally, that is. I had one in my room - a little black-and-white tv set. I longed for a clean, simple and funny life like I saw mirrored back at me whenever I watched tv. I just wanted any life different than the one I had. And my interpersonal skills were grabbed from such television shows as "3-2-1 CONTACT" and I know I spent a week thinking everything was an educational mystery to solve. I watched shows like "Quincy" (yes - I watched Quincy as a child...I guess that's where my urge to be a forensic pathologist originated) and shows like "B.J. And the Bear" which would explain why I walked around the house, the neighborhood and the school with one of those little stuffed monkey velcro-clingy things attached to me for a few weeks. This is around the time MTV came out and I started discovering music and music videos. AND this is also around the time one of my favorite movies of all time came out - The Rescuers.

What did The Rescuers mean to me? Why did it touch me so much? It captured every feeling I had. It was the story of mice saving a young girl from loneliness. It was just what I needed to feel like I wouldn't be alone forever. I comforted me so much to think someone WAS waiting for me somewhere. This song - which brings me to tears every time I see it - I knew it so well at the time, I played the little RPM record over and over and over on my little Winnie-The-Pooh record player:



That's almost exactly what it looked like - over and over - here's a link to the song on YouTube (the embedding was disabled by request) and you can actually see the scene in the movie that I watched over and over and over too. :)

Someone's Waiting For You

"You must try to be brave little one, someone's waiting for you" ---> This was my mantra. I believed with my whole entire heart that sometime, somewhere in life, someone had been created and designed just for me. Someone to instinctively know when I was sad, someone who knew when I wanted to talk, someone who knew my feelings and needs as soon as they were there. Not someone to "take care" of me - although, over time I have realized that the little 8 year old Stephanie and the 37 year old Stephanie NEED taking care of. There still really isn't anyone specifically in my life who says "let me take care of you", although some people have stepped up lately when I needed caring for emotionally. Generally I just take care of everyone else. Not because I have some innate desire to do it, but because...well, it's all I know how to do. Help others...because I want more for them than I had for me.

I used to walk in the rain as a child and collect worms and I would dig little holes in the backyard and tuck them into their freshly made little beds inside the wet earth. I always felt like I was saving them, one at a time. I would sing this song to the worms and try and comfort them like I wished someone was there to comfort me. I think that's why I was so open to the idea of God as I got a little older and heard and understood who people told me God was. God WAS there to love me...to comfort me...to protect me - and I would never be alone as long as He was there. The 8 year old inside me still needs to feel like somewhere, someone loves me all the time. Someone wants to care for me...somehow. So when times are difficult I remind myself of this song. And remind myself to be brave...and have faith. Wipe my tears, hold my head high, someone IS waiting to love me.

Today, I hope there is no one reading this who feels alone. I hope you all feel as if you have someone waiting to love you. :) I have plenty of love to share and to give. If you need a little today as you read this, take some from me mentally...I would be honored to bring you some comfort today.

XXOO