Saturday, January 22, 2011

A Great Yellow Ball of Melancholy

The thermometer hit about 68 degrees yesterday. It was the third balmy day in the midst of a Northern California winter, one that has seemed far colder and rainier than normal. You would think we'd all be out basking in the sun.


Nearly everyone is.


But not me. I found myself quite melancholy yesterday, dwelling far too much on days of long ago. Part of it, I know, is that warm weather brings to mind springs and summers of days gone by. And I seem to be noticing far more often nowadays that time is marching brutally forward, refusing to stop long enough for me to get my bearings.


My children are no longer young. Oh, sure, they're still kids, but they're not little kids. They're not the portable ones you plunked down in a car seat or a high chair or a disgusting ball pit in a play area. They don't play on PLAYGROUNDS OF DEATH installed by wasteful school districts. They don't draw me unrecognizable pictures or, generally speaking, hideous Sculpey creations.


I went to pick up the family BFF kids yesterday from school. They live in a neighborhood we moved out of when Eldest was 4 and Daughter was nearly 3. I drove by the house we used to live in, the playground they used to play on, the community pool they used to swim in, the mini-market where I used to buy them treats, and the schools they would have eventually attended.


I do believe I would have cried outright if Youngest weren't with me.


The nurturing done when we lived there is no longer needed. The amazing times we all had in that house are locked away in the ever-increasing bank of memories I'll eventually never be able to recall. The sunshine beaming down on me and my previous life managed to make the loss all the more visible, focused, final.


Give me the rain, please. Soon. I won't even complain (much) about how freakin' cold it is. This bright sun is killing me.

3 comments:

JTS said...

Ahhh Patty, I know this feeling too well. I watch the kids here in the school crossings and I find myself searching for the little boy with the flat top or the girl with the long golden hair. They aren't there though, they are grown ups in their 30's now with lives all their own, too distant from mine. More and more I see the future as growing old, body parts wearing out, and it is more than a little depressing. BUT... when I find myself really wallowing in the pit of despair, I remind myself of all the good things that have come my way since I turned fifty, and surely life will bring us both new adventures and memories in the making in each decade of our lives. For sure want our baby birds to leave the nest and fly, sometimes we just secretly wish they didn't have to! HUGS

mayberry said...

My littlest is almost ready to read and lose his first tooth. It's killing me!

Lori said...

The same thing happens to me whenever I drive by our old house where we spent 7 years with our two kids, one was born there and the other was 3 when we moved in. I get choked up just thinking about it. I would do anything to step back into that house and imagine those days. Now, I am enjoying these teenage years, as I watch them blossoming into fine young adults. Thanks goodness we still have all those videos!!

I Could Use Less Excitement, Too

"So glad you were all able to be here. A little less excitement next time. Love all of you." I received that text from my Mom as...