I was soaring.
I was soaring so high that I was almost certain my
fingertips could brush the tip of a cloud.
Tomorrow your life is
going to change.
This morning when I woke up I told my family I wanted us to
go on a picnic, be outside, sit on the grass, and enjoy each other’s company.
That was how I hoped to spend the last day of my summer and the last day of
this long-and also short- gap year. So that’s what we did.
Tomorrow your life is
going to change.
My siblings, my mother, and my grandmother piled up into the
car and drove to one of our favorite lakeside parks. After we ate, my brother
and I raced to the swings like children and tried to beat each other’s heights.
My legs moved back and forth and propelled me higher and higher until I felt
lightweight and invincible. But in the middle of my bouts of invincibility, the
same recurring thought kept eating its way through these happy memories I was
carving in my mind:
Tomorrow your life is
going to change.
And I felt sorrow, like I was mourning a life that wasn’t
yet gone. Needless to say the past few days have been a rollercoaster of
emotions. I am excited and nervous. I am thrilled yet fearful. I want to move
forward with my life and continue my education, but I am also aware that each
day that passes is another one I will not get back. As I packed my things, my
fingers lingered longer on items that had sat on my dresser for the past few
years, which I was removing from their positions. I felt as though I was saying
goodbye to this version of myself.
My grandmother and I walked together to the rocks that sat
on the lakeshore and made ourselves comfortable. I stared at the view long
enough in hopes that maybe I could preserve this moment in time and reflect
back on it when I needed it. I turned to my grandmother, who had a huge,
beautiful smile decorating her face. I wanted to be happy about this change. I
had spent so long agonizing over whether or not it would ever happen and here I
was, preparing to move to my first apartment.
“Tell me the dream again,” I asked her. Her face lit up and
she said, as she said each time I asked her about it, “I had the dream two days
before you were accepted. Two days. I
was in the basement near your room and I saw a pile of large, green olives.
They were absolutely beautiful. And I thought, ‘what is my daughter going to
say about this? She’s going to be upset that it’s making such a mess.’ But then
I noticed that there was no dirt under these olives. Everything was clean. And
your mother came and said, ‘oh these are great, we can put them away in jars, don’t
worry about it.’ They say when you dream of anything green that’s good news,
like a blessing. And then two days later you got accepted at your top school
and Allah made you close to us. Alhamdulillah.”
I leaned my head on her shoulder and thanked her for her
prayers for me. And she said some more prayers until I felt light enough to go
back near the swings. We took selfies with the lake behind us, took photos in
flower gardens. We made silly poses and held each other closely. We were
secretly celebrating an accomplishment and also saying goodbye to a chapter in
our lives.
Tomorrow my life is going to change, but I’ve been waiting
for this. I’ve been anticipating this moment for years.
Today, I felt like I was soaring. And I realized that I have
been soaring since the day I began seeing the results of all the efforts I put
forth into accomplishing my dream. I was raised to reach for the sky, and I do
not aim to do anything less than that.
I will soar.
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