It’s 7:00 a.m. It seems as if I’ve just fallen asleep. Oh, that’s right, it’s only been 3 hours. I hear the creak of the door, the faint jingle of the dog’s collar, and the shuffle of feet moving slowly towards me. Lifting my head would be too much of a struggle, I just keep my eyes closed and hope it goes away. “HAIL CEASAR! CEASAR OF ROME!” Repeatedly getting smacked over the head with my own pillow and the screaming of the wake-up call I’ve gotten so many times by my mother but to this day do not understand force my big, brown, tired eyes to open. Oh, It’s bound to be a great day.
I’m the typical college kid. I get up, roll out of bed, and do what I have to get done in a day. I’ll be the first one to admit that I walk through life blindly half of the time, too concerned about my seemingly important tasks and goals to stop and smell the roses. But you know what I‘ve found? Life sucks without roses. It really does. You can be alive a hundred years and not really live. What will you have to show for it? A couple of certifications and some g’s in the bank? Screw that, I want to live damnit.
I’ve been the bookworm. I’ve stayed inside after class, done my homework and watched the news. I’ve always been twenty minutes early to class, and spent my weekends at home, on the couch, doing nothing. One day I was talking to my uncle. He’s a great guy, always a father-figure to us, and has the best stories. My mom and him have always been close, and have the same friends. I love hearing about all of the crazy things they did when they were my age. That’s when it hit me. They were DOING THINGS when they were my age. They were being crazy. They were spending their days not worrying about the consequences, just having fun. What stories was I going to be able to tell my nieces and nephews one day? I’ve got nothing, I thought. Better start makin’ some memories. Everyone makes a new year’s resolution. Whether you choose to stick with it is your problem. January 1st, I made mine. I was done. I was done not living, not taking every opportunity handed to me to do something. I had places to go, people to see, and things to do. And that’s what I’ve done.
I’ve spent some time with my family, actual quality time. I’ve always been close to my mom, but lately I’ve really gotten to know her. I feel bad sometimes, I’ll go out with friends and they’ll all call their moms to let them know the details of what they’re doing, but I don’t. “My mom doesn’t care, as long as I’m safe”, I’d say. Then I started to realize how bad that sounds. My mom doesn’t care? That’s hardly the case. My mother gets up every morning at 3:45, she’s at work at 5. She’s a caregiver, and with the woman she takes after, it’s hard work, trust me. She gets home at 5, cooks, helps the kids with homework, cleans up the house, and crashes on the couch by 9. She works so hard to provide for us, and never complains. She always has a smile on her face and a sarcastic comment to antagonize me. She is the sweetest, most loving and generous person I know, and if I can be half the mother she is one day, I’ll be happy. My sister’s going to be 18 in December. Cathy, she’s a trip; says the dumbest things you can possibly imagine. She’s dating Jose. He doesn’t speak English. I’ve got two brothers too, Patricio and Sam. They’re typical boys. Pat’s “mad chillz on the skateboard” and Sam’s a gamer. They’re hysterical. Honestly, my entire family should star in an Adam Sandler movie.
If that happens, my friends should be the extras. I actually picked up a quote from a customer at work a while back. She was upset, just having come from visiting her best friend, who was dying of cancer. The woman was in her later stages, and at this point too weak to speak much of the time. I began to think how great of a friend it took to go sit with someone for hours on end and not say a word, just simply be there for them. Just as I was thinking this, I handed the woman her change and she looked me square in the eye. She said “real friendship comes when silence between you is comfortable”. I don’t think anything in the world can make me forget those words. I also think that is when I truly started to value my friends.
I have two best friends, Jack and Sally. The two have never met, and are totally different people. Jack and I have been friends since 5th grade. When we were in 10th, he “came out of the closet”. He lost a lot of his friends at that time, but the ones worth having stuck around. He’s always been there whenever I needed him, and is always game for late night Denny’s runs or last minute campouts. I love him to death, and though he’s 10 hours away 8 months of the year, he comes back and it’s like nothing ever changes. Sally’s a different story. We honestly haven’t been friends that long; I’ve only known her for two years. We’re totally different people, with totally different interests. But somehow, that’s what makes our friendship interesting. She is probably the happiest person I have ever met in my life, always cheering everyone up. She’s incredibly smart and witty, and just really cares about everyone. She gets a card from me just about every week, and the ladies in the post office know me by name I’m there so much. I think my favorite thing about the entire friendship is the fact that I can be totally myself; I can send her a package of seemingly meaningless junk, perfume and stick off of a tree in my backyard for example. Or a plastic severed hand. To anyone else, it’s just some spray and a twig. She knows that the stick is to beat the men away, and she’ll laugh. Many will see the hand and think I’m crazy, she gets that it’s because I always hit her upside the head. Little things like that keep a friendship going. I just recently woke up at 3:00 in the morning to go surprise her for her birthday in DC. Worth every dime and hour of sleep missed.
These are the people I make my memories with; my friends and family. We spend days at the river, take trips to the Poconos, and spend hours on end sitting outside of Dairy Queen. We go to the beach for the day, go cart, and eat more than any person should. We spend nights outside by campfires, and feel like hopping on a bus at 5:00 in the morning is worth it to see the other’s face the very second they turn 18. These are the people I don’t consult my schedule for, but are who I live for. These are the people that I would go sit in the hospital with in dead silence, and feel completely at ease.
Sometimes we get so wrapped up In our busy schedules that we forget what’s important. Why do we get up in the morning? To finish that essay for Modern Culture, or take care of your little sister who’s laying upstairs with mono? I am not saying schools not important, or work’s not important. I’m simply saying that these are not the things worth living for. The people we love and the things that make us smile and feel like we’re on top of the world is what makes this life worth living. Do yourself a favor: think about your priorities, consider the things and the people that matter. Remember why this is such a wonderful life, and start living it.
