Eyes of the Youth | My Family Travels
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Home at last, not my home, but the one I’d like to call mine. Eva Beach, Hawaii. Lost in a wistful gaze through the newly rented car window, memories danced across my eyes. Just half an hour longer on this scenic road would lead straight to the heart of my childhood play, my crystal moment in time, my escape. My eyes gently shut, and I was whisked away in the ethereal beauty of the past.

“Mommy please, just ten more minutes.” I giggled with pleasure as my mom sighed and nodded her head. Immediately I skipped away to my canal. Jumping straight into the center of the shallow water, my toes dug into the coarse, wet sand. I gleamed with delight.

The sun was slowly drowning in the vast ocean sending splashes of color into the paint like sky. I immersed my body in the friendly shallows of the canal and lay motionless as I observed every fluid movement of the silhouette dancing in the distant waves. The outline and the wave moved in harmony. Even when this figure, which I watched with such great awe, turned against the crashing barrel of water, a perfect ramp was created just to bring the figure back in unison. Watching intently, I thought to myself, “Someday, my soul will match that of the wave. Someday, I will be that silhouette dancing before the magnificent painting in the sky. Someday, that will be me.”

“Kelsey, we’re here. Wake up.” My mom’s voice jolted me back to reality. Familiar images cascaded before my eyes. Jumping out of the car, I raced to rediscover every inch of my deeply-rooted memories. The once pearl white house was now painted a vibrant canary yellow. I followed the seemingly endless driveway to the backyard.An outdoor shower had been installed behind the house and a small patch of newly sprouted grass lay in the far left corner just below the blooming hibiscus bush. But despite the several striking changes since my childhood, my attention was drawn to the obscured dull-grey canal on the opposite side of the driveway. I was caught in a trance. Each fleeting memory spoke to me. I remembered the majestic graffiti paintings along the concrete walls, the coarse sand between my toes, and the way I became mesmerized by the figure flowing in the waves. But the walls were now faded, the sand fine, and the figure gone.

The sun began its decent casting long shadows upon the sandy shore. My family had become fully reacquainted with the house and were lounging about discussing the upcoming family reunion. A whisper of wind gently kissed my cheek, and a sense of serenity descended upon me. Board in hand, I made my way to the water’s edge, slowly wading in. As I carved through the waves, I contemplated the changes that had befallen “my” childhood home. Although the house and yard were truly more beautiful than I had recalled, the wonder and ambitions of a child were lost. But as these thoughts crossed my mind, I noticed two young girls dangling their feet off the right side of the canal. They intently followed my every move. I now realized I was the silhouette dancing harmoniously with the waves. The childlike wonder and ambitions that I thought were lost, were in fact the only things that would never change. As time passes by, so do the limitless boundaries surrounding our dreams, but these dreams are then passed on to each new generations to be beheld only in the eyes of the youth.

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