All children, except one, grow up.

Childhood is a time when you everything is simple and the greatest tragedy that can happen to you is dropping your ice cream on the sidewalk. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t grown up, and I long for the days I would stay outdoors till the nightfall, chase trains and ride my bike as if it was the wind.

I’ve always liked the story of Peter Pan. When my friends were listening to Backstreet Boys and were falling in love with singers and actors, I imagined being in Neverland. For years I dreamt of seeing the monument of Peter Pan in Hyde Park in London and last year, it came true. It’s smaller than I expected it to be. I think I’ve grown up.

Peter Pan monument, Hyde Park, April 2010

But what can I say about the child I used to be?

I’m the younger one, born seven years after my sister. I used to be sickly and was pushed from pillar to post before one doctor realized I’m simply allergic and from then on, my health has improved. To help me with my condition, this doctor recommended changing the climate and so since I turned three we spent two weeks at the seaside in Darłówko. All in all, I’ve been there, except one, and it resulted in my love for the sea (even though it’s sooo cooold!). I enjoy walking along the beach to the pier, watching the sunset or lying on the cooling sand to watch the stars.

Having fun in the water

As a child I didn’t eat much. I had some favorite meals and would always stick to them. Still, my parents had this great idea to sit me in front of a huge plate with snails (I was about three and we were in France) because it would look as if I was eating them. As if!

Seriously, I didn't eat it. I was drinking Pepsi (note the straw!) :D

And now the final photo, one that means a lot to me. This was taken on Grandmother’s Day in my kindergarten. This woman with me is my late grandmother.

My grandmom Irka and me

I remember my grandmother’s garden mainly from my childhood times. It was a place of wonders for me. It was always full of flowers, blooming at different times of year. With the beginning of the spring, the garden would wake to life. The plants would start sprouting and the trees would dress themselves in white and pink buds. Gradually, green would be replaced by other colors. The tulips were the first to come, and first to go as well. I can still remember crying over them losing their petals so soon. Other flowers would start to blossom not long after the tulips. There were violets, crocuses, daffodils, lilies of the valley and roses. The bees were flying from one bloom to another, buzzing furiously. Intensive smell of flowers filled my nostrils as I wandered down the narrow paths squeezed between the blossoms. The most notable scent was the one of the lilac tree crammed into one of the corners of the garden. I would spend hours there, playing games and hiding among the flowers.

My grandmother loved plants and plants loved her. I knew I could always find her amid her flowers, taking care of them. However, the day my grandmother passed away, the garden died with her. It has changed drastically. The colorful flowers are gone now and the lilac tree has been cut down. At that very moment, the only thing growing there is grass, green and dull.

I believe this garden was my Neverland.