Ad Astra:

0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13,… April 25, 2011

Today is the 8th number in the Fibonacci sequence. And in less than one hour, the next number shall be tacked on. In less than one hour, the Fibonacci count will reach 21… as will I.

As I sit here now in the Computer Science lounge attempting to get ahead on homework, this one thought does not stray from my mind. It’s like this every year; the last 24 hours leading up to my birthday always has me feeling uneasy. I’m not really sure why, though. Technically, I’m only one day older than I would have been 24 hours previously. And then again, isn’t time just something us humans came up with anyway? Every instant in time is just one more instant from the last. Yet here I am, once again, contemplating the thought of turning a new age. Last year at this time was particularly uneasy for me, making the transition from teenager to “adult”. It’s difficult to admit to yourself that you are leaving that stage in your life when you’ve been there for seven years. But it happened nonetheless, and here I am one year later. Most people look forward to the day when they turn 21, as if a new world awaits them. I, on the other hand, cannot say that I am as excited for these new privileges. As I mentioned in my last post, I do not plan on now incorporating the alcoholic beverage into my daily routine. (I am perfectly fine sticking to my can of Coke or Dr. Pepper.) But with the number 21 comes so much hype. It’s a milestone in a person’s life, and it’s hard to believe I’m about to cross it.

This day always makes me stand back for a moment and look at what my life has been and where I am now. I find it strange how, when I think about my life in terms of just plain ol’ years, it doesn’t seem like that much time has passed. But when I think about the time in terms of school years, it seems like forever. As I go through each year one-by-one, and remember all the significant things that have shaped me into who I am today, I find myself in no less than awe. I am happiest to say, however, that it puts a smile on my face. It’s incredible what all can happen in 21 years. I still remember the day I moved into my childhood home. I can remember my first day of Kindergarten and First Grade. I remember the first time I rode a bike without training wheels. I remember the first book I read on astronomy. I can recall the first time I created my own webpage. I can think of the first time I was on stage in front of a thousand people.  I remember the first time I realized I had a crush on a girl. I remember the first time I found a group of friends who liked me for who I was and accepted me. I remember my first school dance. I remember the first time I rode a steel roller coaster. I remember the day I first decided what career I wanted to do. I remember the first time I found a best friend. I remember when my sister got married and moved away. I remember the first time I bombed a math exam. I remember the first time I felt betrayed. I remember the day I visited Virginia Tech and instantly knew it was where I belonged. I remember coming to college knowing no one and ending up with more amazing friends than I could have ever asked for. And I remember the first time the girl who means the most to me took my hand in hers, the first time we kissed, and the first time she placed her head upon my chest as we looked up at the stars. And now I can say that I remember the day I got an offer letter from Google. Like I said, it’s crazy how much can happen in 21 years.

So what else can I say? I guess I really just wanted to capture these last moments of thought in writing. While there are always those days where I can feel worthless, I know that I am truly one of the luckiest. Sure, others may have me beat at those things I strive to be the best at, but they can never say that they have experienced those things that make me realize how fortunate I really am. I have wonderful parents who have always loved me and believed in me, an amazing sister who I have always looked up to and who has helped me through some of my toughest times, and incredible friends who always give me reason to smile and feel blessed. I hope you all know how much you mean to me. While I look to the stars in admiration, know that you make this world my truest home.

So thank you, both those whom I know now and those whom I have yet to meet. And while I may never be able to truly express my sincerest gratitude for all that you have done or will do for me, just know that I will always want to be here with you, sharing in both your triumphs and your sorrows. So, now, as I approach adding that last number to the Fibonacci count, I recall the lyrics from a choir song I sang almost four years ago, one that has stuck with me as some of the most genuine lines I’ve sung:

There would I find a settled rest,
While others go and come;
No more a stranger, nor a guest,
But like a child at home.