When I Was 15

Once upon a long time ago, in a time that seems like whole life away, I was 15. There were none of these worries of the world on my shoulders; none of these scars I bear, visible and hidden. There were only wide open eyes to what the world had to show. I was in between the wonder of wishes and the knowledge of realism. I was right smack in the middle the joys of being a child and the yearnings of adulthood. If I had known just how hard life as an adult would be, I would have tried to stay right where I was.

When I was 15, it was 1983. In my sheltered world, a world that I knew well, life was good. There was no need to know that life outside of my bubble was both terrifying and beautiful, but I knew it was anyway. I knew that there was more to life than just living on a mini farm and attending a 2-room schoolhouse. Things were happening...

Mt. Kilauea began slowly erupting in Hawaii, and its lava is still flowing to this day.
Apple Inc. released the Apple Lisa personal computer.
The final episode of M*A*S*H aired, setting a new world record for the most watched television broadcast in U. S. history.
Michael Jackson first performed the "moonwalk" at Motown 25 and his video for "Thriller" was broadcast for the first time.
Sally Ride became the first woman in space aboard the Space Shuttle Challenger.
Vanessa Williams became the first African American to be crowned Miss America.
Microsoft Word was first released.
President Ronald Reagan made the proposal to develop technology to intercept enemy missles, which was dubbed "Star Wars" by the media.
McDonalds introduced the McNugget.
"Flashdance" and "Return of the Jedi" were box office hits.
Chrysler started production on the first minivans, the Dodge Caravan and the Plymouth Voyager.
Carrie Underwood was born.
Karen Carpenter died.

I was 15 and had already visited another country. I was selected as the junior representative for our local Pathfinder club (for all you heathens out there, think Boy Scouts meet Girl Scouts with room for Jesus in between) to attend the 1st Inter-American Division Pathfinder Camporee held in Oaxtepec, Mexico. It was my first time on an airplane (I've only flown one other time since then) and my first time out of the States. Talk about a culture shock. The biggest city I had ever visited was Tampa and here I was in the middle of Mexico City with only a handful of people I barely knew, embarking on a several hour bus ride to a place in the country large enough to accommodate several thousand kids and chaperones from North, Central, and South America. We visited Aztec pyramids, historical sites, and a museum of history. It was there that I learned the value of a peso and the art of bargaining for trinkets. It was there that I learned you could get lost in a big city and find yourself there too. I also learned you could find almost anything you wanted if you asked the right person. It was my first experience outside of my comfort zone and I will never forget it.

I was 15 and I had already tried pot and discovered I liked it. I think I won't expand on this subject right now more than just saying that the 90's were yet to come...

I was 15 and I was developing who I was. Country music (which was grandmother approved) was being replaced with Rock and Roll (which wasn't). My cousin introduced me to Pink Floyd and it was the first time music touched my soul and changed my life. I had been "husky" for as long as I could remember and still battle with that problem to this day. My friends were Converse, I was "bobo" shoes (you know, no-name brand). I was poor, but unlike today, I didn't realize it. I was 15, so it didn't matter.

I'm no longer 15, but today, my daughter is. I hope that she hasn't experienced some things that I had at her age, and hope that she can experience others. She has already been to our nation's capital, and this year, there's a possibility of her visiting larger cities such as New York and Chicago. She harbors a love for animals and she has wicked artistic talents. She's eligible for her learner's permit. She is in (gulp) high school. She is becoming a beautiful young lady and is noticing boys. She is developing her own persona, but still is an off-hand carbon copy of me. She's 15 and she's my little girl.

I feel blessed to have her and my son both in my life. Sure, life in a broken home...no, not broken, just life in two separate homes...is not easy, but we've gotten used to it. I feel blessed that they both have their good health. It could be a lot different.

I heard yesterday of a little girl who probably will lose her battle today with her undisclosed-to-me sickness. I can only assume that cancer is to blame. My heart goes out to everyone close to this little girl. I can't imagine the grief; the guilt of being helpless to fight this cruel thief of such a young life. I heard about this and all I wanted to do was go to my kids at their mom's house and hug them and tell them just how much I love them. But I didn't. I merely came home to my myriads of cats and dogs and fish and birds and put my fingers to talking.

I was 15 and had the future ahead. She is 15 and her future is rapidly approaching. She is 15 and shouldn't have to worry about adult things like jobs and bills and loss of love. All that will come in time. All that can wait until later. And God willing, I will be there when her future becomes our present.

Happy birthday, sweet child of mine.

You are 15.