I was so much younger then...I'm older than that now.

1     I remember when I was getting ready to turn fifteen, for me, this was monumental. Fifteen was so much older than fourteen, and one year away from turning sixteen. I’m not a little girl anymore, but not quite a woman. This was a time in my life where I felt grown up; I thought I knew everything.  I had taken on a lot of responsibility at that point, I thought; I deserved to be treated as an adult. I felt entitlement, entitlement that adults have in life.  After all, my family had gone through two divorces by now, and I, being the oldest, had to take on quite a bit.

2      Back then, kids were able to receive their driver’s license at age of fourteen, with the restrictions of driving only during the daylight hours. As a new driver, I became the family grocery shopper; I cooked, cleaned, and helped look after my younger brother who was ten. My mother worked hard and had just received her master’s degree at Boise State University. She landed a great job with the State of Idaho that would help build a comfortable future for a single mother of two. We had a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, and food in the fridge.  It seemed that divorce was becoming an epidemic in the 70’s, and my family just happened to be one of the first who caught the virus.

3       My birthday is in July, I love that my birthday is in July. It’s the best month in the summer, there is no school, and the responsibilities that I had, tended to ease up. My Grandmother called me one week before my birthday. She said that turning fifteen was special and she wanted to take me and my brother out to dinner. I thought to myself, “Wow! She gets it; she understands me.” The day had finally come. I must have tried on everything in my closet, which in my mind looked sophisticated. When my grandmother came to pick us up, it seemed as if we drove forever, up on the bench, down Fairview Ave. heading west towards the sun. As we pull into the parking lot, my brother and I look at each other, our eyes wide, both looking out the windows of the back seat, questioning where we were.  I remember my grandmother was pleased that she got a parking spot right up front. I fantasized that they must have reserved that spot just for my birthday. As my brother and I, our necks contorted, looking up past the rear view mirror that was blocking our view in the front window of the car, my Grandma chirps, “Chuck E. Cheese, Surprise!”