A Page of One's Own: Moments that Change Us

Four years old and I tell my dad I didn’t eat more peanut M&Ms. But I did eat more peanut M&Ms and he knew it and sent me to my room and we talked about lying. A little knot formed in my belly and I sat on the ground until it went away. Tyler came over and wanted to play. We threw dirt clods at the blue green shed with crackly wood and little pieces of dry dirt stuck where the paint peeled. I told Tyler lying was bad because it hurts peoples’ feelings.

In and out, in and out and two moments gone with two breaths.

I woke up this morning and listened to myself breathe and then listened to Branden breathe. I matched our ins and our outs and thought about moments that pass with each in and out, moments that change us.

I am nervous, so nervous for my first middle school race. My hair is slicked back, my eyes wide and my jersey loose. I walk out of the locker room with Abby and two of my friends, two boys, yell across a field, “Kaylee, you are so beautiful!” I blush and turn away. Am I beautiful? After the race, two of my girlfriends tell me they have never seen me with my hair down, and that girls wear their hair down so I have to wear my hair down. The next day I try it out. I blush when someone comments and put it back up. I’d rather be me than pretty.

I didn’t make the basketball “A” team later that year. I call my dad crying after I look at the list void of my name. He stops by Albertsons on his way home from work and we have our very first “to hell with the world night.” Ice cream, chocolate, a chic flick, a back massage, and I’m better than the “A” team anyways.

I turn over in bed and whisper “happy birthday” to Branden. In and out, and he’s still sleeping.

We have these moments, the unexpected ones, that are irreplaceable, that cause time to slow down and even stop for a second, that leave a mark somwhere within us. We choose to let go of something, we choose to forgive, our hearts break, we succeed and we fail. We see another person hurting and the world expands, we suffer loss and the world shrinks. We forget that every moment of every day, we are breathing in and out, in and out, and then every once in a while something reminds us, and we are stuck forever in a moment that is too much to ever forget.

I'm camping with my family in the mountains of the Wasatch Front. Brittany and I escape and lay in a wide field under the stars. She tells me her eighth grade secrets and I tell her my high school secrets, and we laugh and cry a little. We are two tiny ants in the vast universe, and as she is talking, I know what it feels like to really love another human being.

In and out, in, out, and I wonder if today I will have an unforgettable moment, a breath in and out that lasts forever.

I'm 20 years old. I recently returned from my mission, and my bishop asked to give a homecoming talk at church. It is traditional in the LDS faith to speak in the native language of your mission for a few minutes as you give your speech to your family and friends.

Branden Heath, the sweet boy I had played 1-on-1 basketball against in high school, has been talking to me the last few days. I don't know him at all, and I am guarded and skeptical on why he is interested in playing basketball again with me after so many years.

He speaks Portuguese fluently and helps me practice for my speech in church. I get on the stand on December 29 and see him walk into the back of the church building by himself wearing a green and gray sweater vest. In and out, calming down, but nervous, so nervous. I can’t speak Portuguese without crying, and so I give my speech in English instead.

I walk up to him expecting a joke about how I chose to talk in English when he had been taking time to practice Portuguese with me every day. I had already heard it from most of my friends who attended.

I put my head down and say “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t do it” as I approach him. He wraps me up in a hug and says “Are you kidding?! It was way better in English anyways. Kaylee, it was perfect.”

Branden has been my home ever since.

And just like that, I’m 22 and time passes so quickly that I dig my heels in and want it to stop, even for a few breaths so I can remember this moment, another moment that I feel is changing me.