About Me

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Bucks County, PA, United States
In addition to her award-winning young adult fiction, Diana Muñoz Stewart runs her own company providing content for websites and blogs on health, writing, and family. She earned her Bachelor’s degree in English Literature from Rowan University and a Master’s degree in Creative Writing from the Stonecoast, University of Southern Maine. When she’s not writing, she can be found kayaking in her backyard or hiking with her kids and the man who’s made her heart race and palms sweat since their devoted teen years.

Saturday, July 20, 2013

The Big Wheel Time Machine


I had a dream last night that my entire life, every second of every moment that I had ever lived, was available to me. Sort of like I had super memory and could call up a Youtube of my life. All I had to do was think of a time and I could play it and see the tiniest detail.

The moments I thought I'd forgotten played in colorful, vivid flashes. It was pretty cool. I kept thinking, “Oh, yeah, I remember when that happened” and “Wow, that was a great day.” And in the dream, if I focused on one of these memories, I was suddenly there, inundated with the feel, the smells, sights, and sounds of that day.


For example, I focused on a day riding my Big Wheel as a kid. I was there. I could smell the end of summer air, cool with the fragrant moss of decaying leaves. I could see the small Keds sneakers I wore. I noticed the muddy white rubber tip at the top. They were scratched and scuffed because I would drag my toes when I wanted to spin out. I remembered the bumpy finger shapes on the handlebars grips, the plastic body that gave the slightest bit when I sat, and even the sturdy plastic seatback. It had no give. I put my finger through the punched out holes. There was a small bit of frayed plastic around one of the edges of the holes on the Big Wheel's red body. I decided to tug off the seatback, so I could move it.  I had to shake it back and forth as I pulled to get it up and out. I moved the seatback as far back as I could, but then when I sat, I couldn't touch the pedals. No way was I moving it back, admitting I was too short to reach the pedals. I scooted up and drove anyway. I glided across the smooth asphalt as I rode down the driveway. I made the turn onto the sidewalk, at top speed, and the smooth feel changed to bumpy vibrating on the rough concrete.

I was stunned by all of these details, the sun on my head, and the regular jumps made by the division of the sidewalk and the thud, thud riding made in my ears and jaw as I pedaled faster and faster.

It was pretty amazing. And the best part was that in the dream, I thought to myself, “I own this, every second, every detail.” And somewhere in the dream I realized that even if I didn’t remember my life this vividly every day it didn't matter, because al the memories of my life were stored inside me.

And, you know what, I am happy to own them, every detail, good and bad, because it's my life.

Now, if I could just remember where I put my iPod charger. 

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