The Day My Childhood Ended

The coming of age occurs for men at different ages, each man takes a bold step out of his childhood at different times. Each man matures at a different rate and the process of becoming a man is no mean feat. Many boys are forced out of their childhood through situation, some are self driven to become men and others choose to stay within the realms of childhood. The Peter Pans of society.

I must say I was introduced to manhood through situational reasons. I neither wanted to enter manhood nor was I prepared for it. And my entrance was sharp and unforgiving. I remember it as vividly as ever, like it was yesterday. I woke up excited, full of life and exuberance, it was my 17^th birthday. I had more gifts than I could imagine, I had done the whole rounds, I was sure to visit every family member, aunties, uncles, and even the random people my mum talked to on her weekly trip to the market. No one was safe. It was payday and I was like a bailiff, I would not miss a repossession. Better yet I was like a collection plate at a Pentecostal church, everyone knew I was coming, they just didn’t know when and weren’t surprised when I came around twice.

I was on my final collection for the day, saving the best till last… I turn up at my grandmas with a broad smile on my face, enjoy a Caribbean meal, laugh along with my grandfathers jokes and then it was time, everything was going right, she handed me a large silver envelope embellished with glitter. I opened it with excitement. Grandma always looked after me, visiting her was always a pleasure, warm comforting hugs, copious amounts of dinner on the table and to top it off the monetary gain. Everything was perfect at grandmas. 7th birthday…"here Ross, here’s £5 to get some sweets!" 11th birthday …"here Ross, here’s £10 to get some sweets"…16^th birthday…."here Ross here’s £20 to…" you guessed it, to get some sweets. A visit to grandmas was like a trip to the royal mint.

Grandmas tradition was to wait until you were leaving before giving your gift. My heart was filled with joy as I received the luminescent silver envelope. I glumly thought to myself "ahh you've done it again, haven't you grandma". Don't count your chickens before they hatch is probably the moral to this experience, because I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but an empty card was not one of them. Have you ever opened a card carefully expecting to see money gracefully fall from it's crease, instead the only thing that drops is your heart to your stomach, leaving you with no choice but to try to hold back your disappointment and grin graciously. Nothing was in there, not a red cent. I frantically re-examined the envelope to make sure I didn’t miss anything, whilst attempting to maintain my composure and keep a smile on my face.

I read the card aloud, "Happy Birthday Ross, You're a big man now, we hope you have a lovely day" I smile attempting to hold back my initial disappointment (I failed miserably), but then immediately come to the realisation that in their eyes I had grown up and had achieved adulthood. That is definitely something to be proud of, I suppose.  It was now time for my younger cousins to take the throne. Sigh, I admit I had a good run. Being the youngest child, allows you that. But like all good things, they come to an end and mine had come to a brisk and premature one. It was all downhill from here.