Youth

In Kona, Emily and I browsed beachy jewelery made of silver, hemp, shells, and other different things. We both wore hemp anklets with plumeria flowers, and my mind drifted back to my early 20's when I had fully embraced surfing (though was never any good) and was tan from lifeguarding year round. I wore hemp and shell necklaces and anklets, and had gorgeous youthful skin.

We got toe rings at an outdoor stall and I showed Emily how to use them. We both now have silver toe rings with a plumeria flower on our toes, and hemp anklets. Driving to volcano, she place a tan foot on the dash with her toe ring sparkling in the sun, sunglasses on, and not a care in the world.

How I miss that carefree youthfulness.

There were no radio stations for a long stretch between Kona and Volcano. I offered to sing to Emily, like I did when she was a baby. She asked what I used to sing to her. I offered up a couple Jewel songs which she didn't recognize, a Natalie Merchant song which she didn't recognize. I tried Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, which she got.

I asked her if she knew any Madonna.

"Madonna? What's that?"

Oh boy.

Over dinner, I tried to explain to her how I now found myself on the other side of this youth thing. When I was her age, my parents were about my age. I remember thinking how old they seemed in their 30's. Adults who had it all figured out and did adult things. Now I'm that age and I realize how young our 30's are and how we aren't even close to having things figured out. Emily looked around distractedly.

Snorkeling above the reef, watching the fish swim about, I remembered snorkeling in Mexico with my dad. As Emily clung to my arm when we first started, I wondered if my dad had felt the same way I was feeling: excited to be showing a child a new and amazing world, worried about her safety, worried she wouldn't love it.

She's been a more amazing travel partner than I thought she would be. She's far more patient and resilient than I expected. She's endured the discomfort of me getting us lost on a barren lava flow field, itchy mosquito bites (I am a terrible aunt), and long travel legs.

Camping in Sequoia as a child, I had a cold and was feeling miserable. My dad and my brothers still wanted to go hike around and see things. When we got back to camp, my dad said to me "Thank you for doing all that, even though you didn't feel well".

I totally get it.

I also totally get that I will never be this young age again and so I have to hold on to all the youth I have left in me and not allow myself to age prematurely. The young are curious and beautiful, happy and free. Smiling...and of course sunscreen, keeps us young. Exploring keeps us young. Charging out into the world seeking adventure, keeps us young.

I'm going to embrace this youth thing. Hopefully until the day I die.