This week, the gals at Sunday Scribblings have listed the previous 101 prompts, offering up a smorgasbord for us to choose from. I didn't start until February 2007. I think it was at the 51st prompt. There are a lot of delicious offerings to choose from before then. I'm picking "If I Could Stop Time."
For years and years, my favorite time to travel backward and forever keep in the moment was the spring and summer I was 16 years old. By that time, the bitterness that had been my home life the previous year had dissipated. My three older siblings were off at college and my younger brother had gone to live with our father. I was alone with my mother, who was experiencing her own freedom following 20 years under my father's rule and a year of utter insanity following her asking for a divorce.
I had freedom galore, and I flew. I did lots of dangerous things, to be sure, and I wouldn't like to relive those necessarily. For the most part, though, I was heavy into the theatre at our high school. My core friends were solid. I was in love with a creative guy. We all got together most nights, doing all of...nothing. Just having fun. Just acting superior in our brilliance. It was fantastic.
But to stop the clock then would mean I'd never encounter Pete or our kids. So I'm afraid I can't stay 16. I'm going to have to make it to at least 40 to incorporate Youngest into our lives. [And, no, I'm not tempted to pick the idyllic time when Eldest was 4 and Daughter was 2 and life was filled with contentment.] His first year was frightfully horrible, so let's tack another year on me. His second year was nearly as horrible, and Daughter had too many issues due to auditory processing, so there's another year on me. While his third year was better, I was still stuck working, so put on another year or two.
Which essentially brings me to today, March 16. Eldest loves me fiercely. He is a very good child. He's not hit the age of wanting to jettison his family for friends. Daughter is lovely, still as sweet as can be and no longer only sweet to her dad and all others. Youngest is mostly on an even keel. We get to spend mornings together, alone, and I cherish those times. Next year, it'll be full-time first grade for him. Pete's heart is fixed, and we're starting to see an end in sight to the pain. My mom is doing well. My sister is nearby and happy. My brothers are all well.
Okay. I'm stopping time right now. No more calendar days turning. This is it. The dog doesn't turn two tomorrow. She will only ever be one day shy of two. And J. and her brood don't leave for New Zealand on Wednesday. They're forever stuck trying to pack their house. [Hey, they haven't given the Prius to the buyer yet, so they'll be okay.]
This is perfect. Now is perfect.