I think that when we get to heaven, there will be this colossal video playback console where we can watch, cycle through, and ultimately relive our entire lives on earth. You can replay every single moment, however small or significant. You can even see it in slow-motion, with multiple angles, an audio commentary with your thoughts, and there will be an awesome behind-the-scenes featurette where God shows you how He was orchestrating everything (until you came and screwed it all up, of course).
I think about this because I feel like I breezed by so much of my life. Especially my childhood, which anyone hardly remembers. Sometimes I spend hours just reading through my old xanga entries and journals because I get to relive those moments in high school, whether good or bad. But I barely have anything to help me retain moments from my childhood, namely before age 11. I guess that’s why people always clutch those tiny items from their childhood years in desperation, as if seeing, smelling, and touching the object creates some atomic explosion of vast memories too translucent and distant, yet colored in so tightly, to fully remember.
So here are some moments from childhood that I’d replay over and over again in heaven because I don’t remember experiencing enough of them:
1. Kindergarten Class with Ms. Friedman
According to my family, my kindergarten teacher, Ms. Friedman, absolutely detested me. Well, all the better because she was a mean old fat lady who was far from gentle, sweet, or loving, as Kindergarten teachers should be. But she hated me because I was really hyperactive. My mom said that Ms. Friedman thought I was mentally disordered and my sisters still refer to me as “The Devil Child”. But I don’t remember being all that crazy. Yeah, I guess I recall jumping across my couches non-stop and stabbing them with kitchen knives but other than that, it seemed pretty normal.
2. My First Kiss
It was the winter break of the 6th grade and hormones had just arrived, looking through my body like real estate. And alas, a crush. And subsequently, the mind-blowing revelation that something could actually be done about it. “You’re telling me, I don’t have to just chase her in the school yard and pretend to hate her??? So this is what growing up is all about…” And of course, the “Do you like me? Circle yes or no?” letter. And on and on which inevitably led to being outside in the freezing cold with someone I had only known intangibly in my daydreams who was now, standing before me, radiant, rosy-cheeked, and as real as my frozen boogers. For some reason, two of our friends were there too, egging us on. Not the ideal situation that my 11-year-old heart dreamt about, but it was a kiss, nonetheless. And it happened. As abruptly as that sentence in a paragraph without build-up or resolve. Oh yeah, there was a lot of waiting. A LOT of waiting. But even in that margin of a second, something like a flash of fire shot through me and I could’ve ran around in that wintry weather with nothing but shorts and a t-shirt on and still felt stuffy. But as quickly as it came, it went. Mind you, I was all smiles and shaking all over afterward but it was like nibbling on a lightning bolt only to have it disappear the moment you imploded inside. Who was it, you ask? Hey, hey, I don’t kiss-and-tell. I only kiss-and-reveal-everything-but-the-person so back up, buddy.
3. Affirmation From Mr. Adams
In the 5th grade, I had the best teacher ever. Mr. Adams, a saint of a man, who was tall, bald, and bearded. He always stopped lessons to tell us the coolest stories, he had nicknames for everyone (mine was “Aimless” because it sounded like Ahnmin and I was always daydreaming), and he was hilarious- I laughed every day in school because of him. So one day, we were writing these couplets for our yearbook. The examples were, “In the crystal ball I see / A medical doctor I will be!” or “In the crystal ball I see / A great lawyer I will one day be!” Basically, all of them started with crystal balls and ended with “be” as the rhyme word. But me, I was like, eff that. I saw all my classmates’ examples and they were just so lame because all they were doing was erasing the profession and filling in the blank. So for mine, I wrote, “In the magical desert sand / I will be drawing for Disneyland” (I wanted to be a cartoonist back then). When my friends saw it, they were all like, “Aw man, that’s cool, why didn’t I think of that!” But when I showed it to Mr. Adams, I’ll never forget the look on his face. A huge smile, beaming with pride. And then the words. “You wrote this?” I nodded furiously. “This is really great, Ahnmin.” Still reading the two lines. “This is really something.” It was all the affirmation I needed to know what my calling was. Those few words and looks told me that I had something unique and special to offer and that it meant something. It was one of the greatest moments in my life and I’ll probably rewatch it in heaven even more than the Afro Ninja youtube video. Probably.
