Getting Older and Wiser. And Still Eating Fish Sticks.

I want to have something more interesting to tell you than that I’ve been eating fish sticks for dinner all week because they remind me of being a kid growing up in Cleveland, Ohio. (Yes, sometimes I regress. It’s quite comforting.) Which is sort of weird in and of itself because the only time I ate them was when I was at my babysitter Deborah’s house. What you need to know about Deborah is that she was not the nicest woman on the block. She was of the mean sort who yelled when you did something wrong and made you take naps every five minutes. Yet there were two things that kept me from hating her forever: she had good toys at her house and she made me yummy food. So, it all cancels out.

My mom would drop me off and every day would be the same thing: breakfast, cartoons, nap, lunch, soap operas, nap, toy time, home. Most often it was Pop-Tarts for breakfast and fish sticks for lunch. She never even did anything fancy with the fish sticks. Not that you can, really, or need to. Their power is in their simplicity, their ability to be eaten with five year old fingers. You just pop them into the oven for 20 minutes and, voila!, you get these lovely golden goodies.

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And if you really want to get something good going, you grab some white bread.

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And some tartar sauce.

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And you make a sandwich. I make them exactly as my babysitter used to, spreading a thin layer of tarter sauce on the “enriched” bread, then stacking a few fish sticks on top. One slice of bread.

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And then you fold.

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This is my life. I run my own business during the day, and at night I eat fish sticks and think about what I was doing when I was five years old. This has been somewhat of a pattern since I turned 27 in December. I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting on who I was and who I’m becoming. Where I came from and where I’m going. You know, those thoughts that start running through your head when you realize that you’re closer to 30 than you are to 20 and you want to make some sense of things.

Last month in Charlottesville, I sit outside in the courtyard, drinking up the sun. After a long and emotionally draining winter, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for the final arrival of spring. I’m at the University of Virginia for the Virginia Festival of the Book and the campus is a shimmering emerald. I write again as if for the very first time, as if I’ve forgotten how to look at the sky in wonder.

I write and I think a lot about how I’m becoming more myself every day. How I’m actually looking forward to turning 30 in 2.75 years. (Yes, I’m counting. And yes, I have to be that specific.) I want all the self-discoveries that come with age. Yet, I also know that life is a fantastic mystery that we only figure out a little at a time. Through experience, through trial and error and trial again. And errors. So many errors. Until we come to the inevitable realization that we are all responsible for our own bullshit, that this life is truly ours to create.

And if fish sticks helps me to do that, than so be it.
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10 comments

  1. I really love this Rosetta! It’s so personally poignant that it grabbed my attention and my heart. I go there too sometimes… where I’m just remembering. Remembering is my favorite thing to do. And it’s funny how remembering can make you also look to the future. I’ve been where you are in this post. (Even the nasty babysitter) And I remember taking (and still taking) that introspective glance at my evolving self. This is one of my favorites. All because of fish sticks. lol
    Read my latest blog post…Why I QUIT Blog Hustlin’

  2. Pingback: what are you taking in? | diary of a happy black woman

  3. This post made me think of my babysitter. We called her “Nana.” Nana wasn’t really “mean,” but she didn’t take no mess. She wasn’t afraid to cuss or talk about triflin’ colored folk. My days at Nana’s were filled with TV and food. Nana cooked though. To this day I’ve never tasted better pancakes! My soap opera addiction started with going to Nana’s too. I’m in recovery but for many years All My Children, One Life to Live and General Hospital were must-sees.

    Thanks for taking me down memory lane. :o )

  4. This post made me think of my babysitter. We called her “Nana.” Nana wasn’t really “mean,” but she didn’t take no mess. She wasn’t afraid to cuss or talk about triflin’ colored folk. My days at Nana’s were filled with TV and food. Nana cooked though. To this day I’ve never tasted better pancakes! My soap opera addiction started with going to Nana’s too. I’m in recovery but for many years All My Children, One Life to Live and General Hospital were must-sees.

    Thanks for taking me down memory lane. :o )

  5. I remember Ms. Debbie. It’s funny that you say that you are looking forward to turning 30. I am actually a little scared of that. Anyhow, I love the post. I also wanted to add that I always knew you would be something unique, even when we were just teeny bops. Keep up the hard work and job well done my friend.

  6. I remember Ms. Debbie. It’s funny that you say that you are looking forward to turning 30. I am actually a little scared of that. Anyhow, I love the post. I also wanted to add that I always knew you would be something unique, even when we were just teeny bops. Keep up the hard work and job well done my friend.

  7. I *am* 30.

    No wiser, I am afraid. Sometimes just afraid I am going in circles.

    Well, I do see growth in some things. I have advanced in my career. I can run 26 miles where before I couldn’t run one mile. But on the things that really matter, have I advanced? This I have to wonder about.

    I do take some solace. I know better what I want in life. Now I’m just afraid I’ll never get it. Before I simply used to deny that I wanted some things. Now I’m open to the fear that I won’t get them. Maybe this is progress.

    • Knowing what you want in life is definitely progress. But why would you fear that you won’t ever get the things you want? You make it seem as if you’re on your deathbed already…

  8. I *am* 30.

    No wiser, I am afraid. Sometimes just afraid I am going in circles.

    Well, I do see growth in some things. I have advanced in my career. I can run 26 miles where before I couldn’t run one mile. But on the things that really matter, have I advanced? This I have to wonder about.

    I do take some solace. I know better what I want in life. Now I’m just afraid I’ll never get it. Before I simply used to deny that I wanted some things. Now I’m open to the fear that I won’t get them. Maybe this is progress.

    • Knowing what you want in life is definitely progress. But why would you fear that you won’t ever get the things you want? You make it seem as if you’re on your deathbed already…

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