Nostalgia is a funny thing.

It is amazing to me that I can sit here and listen to a recording of myself singing a song when I was merely four years old, and while I’m listening I can want to laugh and cry at the same time.  I remember that night when mom was going to let us sing a song on to a tape.  I remember waiting patiently until it was my turn.  I remember singing and thinking I was so grown up, and I did a really good job.  Mom didn’t even have to help me!

I suppose it really wasn’t that bad.  Listening to it now, I can’t help but cringe.  Could I have been more off key?  I don’t think so.  But it is sweet, and cute, and I’m glad I have something like this to remind me of what I was like when I was young.

I don’t really feel like I’m getting older.  I know that I am, but everything still feels the same.  My father-in-law tells me that this is one of the secrets of aging – you don’t age unless you feel like it.  It doesn’t matter how the package looks on the outside, everything on the inside is still you.  I look in the mirror and can’t believe that I’ll be 22 next year.  I don’t think I look that much older.  I don’t think the wrinkle on my left cheek makes me old.  I found a gray hair once.  Does that make me old?

If I’m as old as I feel, then I’m about 15.