As I sorted through the drawer memories which I thought had been forever lost in the abyss of my mind had resurrected themselves and forced me to remember when I was small and lost in a world much bigger than I was. From time to time I still feel this way; I think about how huge everything is and how insignificant I am compared to it. When I stare upon the huge moon at night, I admire its greatness and the feeling of being small returns to me. When I stare upon the vast ocean I feel even smaller beside it , I think about how much of the ocean makes up the world and how I don’t even rank in that competition of greatness. I lost before I even started. When I sit in the deafening silence of my room I think long and hard about my future, where I want to travel and what I want to become. Then a feeling of nostalgia takes over me, I wanted to be that fuzzy –headed kid again. Not a worry in the world except what fun adventure was in store for me the next day or what animal or bug I would capture and beg mom to keep it, as I tried the best persuasion I knew, “PLEASE, PLEASE, MOM!” , but when she inflicted the cursed “No!” I would fall over and have a conniption from the disappointment.

When I found my headband, the feel of the soft material made me smile and I was brought back to times when I couldn’t do my own hair and mom would have to do it for me. I would have to sit on a high stool and she would put my hair in a ponytail and then slide the headband on my head and then look at me and smile. Her smile made me happy and made me feel safe. I always wished she would never stop smiling, but as I got older the smile gradually faded away and that image of the smiling beautiful slender face was forever lost.

The ex-best friend was Lian, I was her first best friend and she was mine. When I found the beads and felt the smooth hard plastic in my hand, I felt the same way I did when she gave them to me. I was excited that day, because she said it was a surprise and hid it from me, when she gave it to me I grabbed the little red box and opened it excitedly. When I saw the blue and white beads my eyes widened and I giggled with excitement and jumped on her and gave her a vicious hug. I still remember her gasping as my powerful hug knocked us both to the ground, we laughed as we laid there while gazing into the sky and I thanked her for the gift. As we grew older those special beads lost their significance and so did our relationship. We both forgot about each other, the beads and the childhood friendship we had.

The odd necklace made of seeds had no direct connection to me but to my father. I faintly remember the rastaman, only his cackling laughter and a smile missing many teeth. He was a childhood friend of my father and made jewelry from natural materials in the environment. Hence the necklace made of seeds. When he gave my father this necklace he said it was special and made specifically for this family. Each seed represented an aspect in life and was made to balance ‘things’ that weren’t balanced in your life. With my limited knowledge in the Rastafarian culture I never asked what the aspects of life were, but tried my best to understand and analyze my life to try to figure out myself. I still haven’t come to that conclusion and I don’t think I ever will. He also mentioned a vibe but I figured the vibe would come with the aspects of life and never thought much of it. These two entities were in fact two separate things having no relation to one another. The vibe was a feeling, an extraordinary one, apparently it was unexplainable.

As I sorted through the draw I realized I really wanted to be a kid again. Small and naïve, I craved for the feeling of genuine happiness bought by real friends and family. Simple moments which bought genuine feelings, not feelings that lasted for a couple hours because I got a new phone, but feelings that last for days and years that imprint in our souls and hearts that we can’t forget even if we try hard too.