Having the memory issues I do can make looking back difficult.  Like a vampire.  Conjuring up reflection can be nearly impossible.  Yet there are a few things I remember about being sixteen.

The world is still such a great big place when you are sixteen but it feels small.  Small enough to conquer.  And generic enough to know everything.  Or so we think.

When I was sixteen I broke up with my first boyfriend.  We are still friends now.  It was a bit rough when it happened.  Clearly we all survived.

I got my beginner’s license and started driving lessons that year too.  Hours in the car with my instructor Judy.  A lovely lady in her late 50s.  She had short hair because of a condition she had; every two years she had benign tumours removed from her brain.  

I love driving.  Love it.  But I also still get quite car sick.  If I sit in the back seat.

Had my wisdom teeth removed just before Christmas.   Puked on my mom when I came to.  I remember that.  Bet she does too!

Only sixteen.  Living the dream.  On the edge of change.  How big?  HUGE.  Life altering.  And none of us knew.

I don’t remember much more about being sixteen.  I do remember what happened the year after…

***

We went to visit relatives in Missouri.   We drove.  My parents, two of my brothers and me.  In the van.  For two days.  And many kilometres.  

I remember the thirst.  The fatigue.  Peeing at the side of the road.  The highway.  Outside of Chicago.  I think.  At night.  Dad jokingly driving away…

I remember all of the blood tests.  Urine tests.  Lots of tests.

***

I wonder if I knew what was about to happen after turning seventeen what would I have differently at only sixteen.