Lost at the carnival

I was so excited when the carnival came to town. It had been too long since I had fun, and I was looking forward to meeting my friends there.

"Do you need a ticket, young lady?", the agent asked. I smiled. People were always thinking that I was younger than I was because I was the size of an average twelve-year-old. "Yes, thank you.", I said, as I paid him and he handed me my pass. I wondered what he might think if he realized that I was actually a new grandmother? My parents both had good genes, and with that and my being extra small, it was something I had experienced all of my life.

I reflected back to the first time it happened, as I glanced around the place that was built for fun. I wasn't sure where my friends were, but I was sure we would meet up soon enough. My sister and I had been in Brownies when I first noticed someone reacting to my tiny size. She seemed to think I was just a baby, when in reality I was only seventeen months younger than my sister, with her being seven, and my being six. A woman walked over and seemed very concerned that my mother had walked away. She knelt down and looked at my sister, saying, "Now, you hold your baby sister's hand, and don't let her go, okay?" My sister nodded since of course children were supposed to obey grown-ups. As she walked away I asked my sister, "Why was she talking about me so funny?" My sister shook her head and said, "I don't know."

Just then a friendly attendant said, "Here you go, little girl. How about a ride on the carousel?" I loved the carousel but wondered why he would call me a little girl. My goodness, if he knew my true age... He picked me up as if I was as light as a feather, and set me on a beautiful, ceramic horse. Up and down it went, as we went round and round, and I laughed, feeling breathless and happy. I peeked in the mirror with the golden lights, and saw my tiny form, in the image. My mouth opened in surprise. I had my hair in a ponytail with a barrette, and I was wearing an outfit I remembered from a picture I had seen. Just then the ride was over, and I was lifted down. The attendant led me to a bench, and said, "Wait here, until your mommy and daddy get you." I glanced up at him (way up, it seemed) and thought, "This thinking I'm younger stuff is getting quite amusing." Knowing that I wasn't four years old, and hadn't been for a long time, I quietly moved away from the ride, to see what else I might find to do. My steps were light and easy, and the world seemed so fresh and new.

The next time anyone said something about my size was when I was in a new school. I honestly didn't know that I was small. I was the youngest in class, so of course (in my mind) I would be the smallest. My sister wore clothes four sizes up from mine, but I thought that was normal, too. I didn't know any different, because I only had one sister. I remember that a very big girl frowned at me one day and said, "Second grade is that way", pointing in the opposite direction from where I was going. I responded innocently, "I"m not in second grade. I'm in the fourth grade." "Well, you look like you are", she said rather unkindly, but instead of hurting my feelings, it only surprised me. "I do?", I thought to myself.

"Hey there, little girl..." (What is it with the "little girl" comments?). Would you like to watch a puppet show? "Sure", I said, "That sounds like fun." I hadn't caught up with my friends, so I might as well find something to do. I found myself laughing and clapping to their silly antics, and had a fun time. The show was over, and so I walked back onto the main path, enjoying the sunshine and the fresh, spring day. When I was around ten I had written in my diary that "Today is a nice day, because the sun is shining." That was how I felt in my heart, on this day.

I visited the ladies' room and again was surprised to see a much younger face looking back at me. It was one of those surreal moments wherein one way it just felt natural, but there was a part of me that thought, "Now, wait a minute..." It was as if I was going back in time, but it felt so right that it didn't frighten me. It just seemed as if I was looking at pictures in an album, and remembering how things used to be.

The first time a boy ever kissed me, I was twelve years old. I actually had dolls and Barbies, when he asked if he could carry my books home from school. You might say that I was gently encouraged to start growing up because I didn't really have any intention to. Who wanted to be a grown-up, when you could have fun? Later, when I was older, a young man I was interested in seemed reluctant to get to know me. I was seventeen, but he told me later that he thought I was only fourteen, and he was twenty-one. We fell in love, but his mother thought I was much too young, and twice we broke up after she convinced him to move far away.

I reflected on this as I entered a shop, glancing around at the various things I could buy. I found a mirror and, to my amazement, I had my trim figure again. I felt young and lean and energetic, and I missed my boyfriend. Suddenly I saw a familiar face, and he grinned, saying, "Want to find a ride to go on?" I laughed and said, "Sure, that sounds good", and for the next half hour, we enjoyed the thrill of a roller coaster, after waiting in line together. We felt so happy, and so much in love. We held hands and later he kissed me, by a shady tree. "Want some lunch?" he asked. "I am hungry...", I admitted. We had some pizza and a soda and later had some popcorn and cotton candy. It was so fun to be able to enjoy food without worrying about the calories!

He glanced down at me - he was tall, and I was small. "I've had so much fun with you today", he said. He touched my hair and brushed his lips against mine, and I smiled at the familiar scent of his cologne. I opened my eyes and he was gone. I didn't have to wonder where he went, because he had just sort of dissipated, like someone in a mist. My heart felt sad, but I continued moving on. I somehow sensed that I needed to do that; to keep moving forward, one day at a time, one moment at a time, to continue my life's journey.

I glanced around and realized that nothing looked the same as when I had first walked in. The fun rides were gone, the carnival food had disappeared, and the attendants I had seen when I first walked in were gone. Was I lost, or had I moved to a different part of the carnival? I was no longer sure of where I was, or of where I was supposed to be.

Even after I married, and had children, people continued to think I was younger, and not old enough to have children. My marriage wasn't a happy one, and I became a single mother when they were five, three, and an infant. One Halloween I decided to dress up like a little girl, as I took my children out.

I glanced down and saw the checkered dress I had worn. And there were my children! My older son was six, my daughter was four, and my baby was not quite one. How I loved my children and being a mother. It gave me the joy to raise them. My youngest was dressed up as a baby dragon, and people kept wanting to give him candy. "He's too little", I would laugh, and they would say, "Well, you take a piece for him, then", and so I ended up with pockets full of candy. My little girl looked like a princess, in her beautiful pink dress. She would dance, and spin around. My oldest was dressed up like a Ninja turtle. Suddenly a man walked up to us and said to me, "I'm very concerned that you children are out here tonight without a grown-up." My older son looked shocked and he said, "But my mommy is twenty-six!" I realized then that if I looked like a vulnerable child, we probably needed to get home.

The fair was forgotten, as I tucked in my small children, and heard their prayers. I gave them extra hugs that night. It seemed that we never have as much time with them as we might want, as I touched their hair and kissed their cheek after they had fallen asleep. It was especially hard that night to let them go... to shut the door to their room and walk away.  

I felt so tired, too. It had been a long day, what with the trip to the fair and trick or treating... I felt a bit confused, as I tried to remember all of the day's events, and was soon fast asleep in my bed.

I woke up the next day, trying to remember it all. I got up and washed my face, looking in the mirror. There were no lines on my face... my parents didn't really have any, either, but the silver was there. I thought of my two little grandsons, who had grown so much, since their birth. We were at my father's house when I saw them, now two years old.

My father, who helped to take care of me after I became a single mother, and later lost my job. He had done so much for me. He was there within hours, getting the first flight he could after I lost my oldest son in a car accident. I could remember hugging my son as if it were yesterday. The last time I saw him, he gave me a smile and a big hug, and said, "I love you, Mom." His face had so much joy, just as my father had one time at the airport when we had already said goodbye, but he had just wanted to give me one more hug. It would be a special memory to keep in my heart, because my father also recently passed away, quite suddenly, from a heart attack. I just got back from his funeral, in Kansas, where our family met with each other, at his home.

 Things have changed in my life. My daughter and her husband, and their two little boys may be moving to the other side of the country. My youngest is joining the service. I'm not sure where he will be sent, after Boot camp.

 I will be alone, but not really, because God will be with me, and has promised to lead and guide me until I am someday with him, in heaven. 

I glanced again in the mirror. Was it only five years ago, where some had said that I looked like I was sixteen? My face is rounder. "It makes your face look even younger", some said. And yet I stubbornly want to feel young and lean again and will continue to work toward that, now that I can finally use the treadmill again. The idea that I seem younger is comical, to me. I have been through so much. I was sick last year, and couldn't exercise. It turned out to be my heart.

I could have died, but I wasn't afraid. I knew that if anything happened to me, I would be safe in the arms of God, and I would see my son again. It would seem like a very short time before I would be reunited with everyone I have loved.

No, I'm not a child. I'm not a teenager, and I sort of roll my eyes in thinking how "old" I sometimes feel. I remember how one young man expressed shock when he learned my true age. Then he said, "Why don't you seem surprised, but what I said?" I smiled and said, "I've been hearing it all of my life." "Besides", I thought, "I know who I am."

Age is relative, I guess. I remember an elderly lady telling me that how we feel when we are younger, we will always feel. Perhaps that's why I have a fondness in my heart for my former boyfriend, or why my memories of my family when I was younger and then the memories of my children are so clear.

We carry the ones we love in our hearts, and sometimes we may go back, in our minds, but as Scarlett O'Hara once said, "Tomorrow is another day."