Becoming Ms. Frizzle

Back in February I had a few friends welcome me to the "insignificant birthdays" when I turned 22. I laughed and agreed that, yes, this year would be the first of many unimportant birthdays hardly worth celebrating. BUT (there's always a but), recently I have spent much time considering my age and how significant it is in my family.

It probably seems odd that at the age of 22 I have thought a lot about death. Not in the sense that I want to or think that I will die soon. No, I've thought about death because Chris was 22 when he died. It seems very strange to now be 22 and realize how little I have lived in comparison to his 22 years of life. Even before he got sick he was a bit more of a rolling stone than I am or have ever been. When he got sick, however, life was his oyster. He drove all over this country in my dad's modified truck so that he could take his right foot off and drive with his left. He went to see his favorite bands wherever they happened to play. He waited outside in the rain to have them autograph his leg (or sandal if they were not completely lucid). He and my mom flew to California to see the aquarium. He lived life with no regrets!

I am now 22 and have been to so few concerts I can probably count them on 1-2 hands. The furthest west I have ever been is New Mexico. I don't generally stand in the rain to wait for anything in fear that my hair might grow in volume. I have finished my bachelor's degree, have decided what I want my career to be. I have loved deeply. I have had my heart broken. I have lived with a lesser degree of fervor.

Some days I feel like the one left behind. It's a strange feeling especially at the holidays. Our table used to always have four Hinders and now it only has three. The emptiness I sometimes feel is almost stronger feeling than his actual presence (which is quite significant considering his size). I know this feeling of loss is just an echo of my parents' pain. There are days that I can't imagine how much their hearts hurt and how big the hole is in their hearts.

Other days that I feel the hole in my heart are big events that aren't holidays. I wish Chris could have seen me graduate from college. I wish he were around to pick on my boyfriend and give his sarcastic remarks. But honestly, it's not the big things I miss. It's the small everyday things. I don't have many only-children friends which means almost all of my friends have at least one brother or sister. At times I am unintentionally hurt by them and the flippancy with which they treat their siblings. I wish that I could call 570-5425 and chat with Chris about all of the crap that is going on in my life. He would be able to give me a reality check and perspective. I wish I could just call him and shoot the breeze, find out what trashy girl he was dating (Sally, this you are not included in this because you were his only non-trashy girlfriend) and which bands were on the docket. I wish I could call and just hear his voice. I guess I'll have to wait until I see him again face to face, I just hope I can remember what he looks and sounds like.

So, no, 22 is not insignificant. In fact 23 just may be the most significant birthday I will ever have. It will be the strangest, but most beautiful birthday to know that God has saved me for something special here on earth. Now I just have to seek out what that something special is.