Last night, I had to run down to the gas station to grab some milk. While I was in line, I overheard a conversation between the young cashier and a male friend of hers. They were discussing whether or not they should get a place in the city together and whether or not the cashier's boyfriend would move into the city, too, so they could all share an apartment. The cashier tried to explain to her friend that (like.. honestly?) her boyfriend would (totally) not move into the city. The male friend looked part mystified and part taken aback and said, "Why would he stay in this small town?"
Well, friends, that instantly made me feel about 80 years old. Only because at the age of 19 I couldn't wait to leave my own small town and spread my wings in a Big City. I could never imagine living in a small town ever again, because why would I stay in that small town? Now, I am the 32-year-old Mom driving the Mom-mobile, wearing sweatpants and very-unstylish-yet-waterproof boots to grab milk at 10:45 at night, only to return to my husband and 3 small babes sleeping in beds in the house on the small acreage in the country, not even on the edge of that small town.
Gone are the days of being young and having endless possibilities for your life. Gone are the days of having boundless energy; energy to stay up all night, study for a test on the way to school, and pass the test with a B. Gone are the days of being responsible only to myself and having much more time to donate to Deep Thinking. Gone are the days of wandering around my Big City smelling the smells and hearing the sounds and visiting my most favorite places.
Here, though, are the days of being wiser. Here are the days of having a bunch of drunken Mini-me's running around like total maniacs and making me laugh. Here are the days of getting into bed at night and it's already warmed up. Here are the days of seeing the world through the eyes of a child again. Here are the days of watching those children make the connections (I swear, sometimes if you're watching their eyes, you can actually see the synapses firing) when they figure out something new.
Here are the days of struggle; of knowing that as much as a struggle as it is, one day you will look back with wistfulness at these days, too.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
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Lovely. Absolutely lovely.
ReplyDeleteI feel old sometimes too. Though with this whole dating thing and come-to-mom's-for-Thanksgiving-dinner-and-meet-the-family (his, not mine) thing, I'm feeling rather young all over again. It's a bit odd.
And here are the days that no longer carry the stress of who you are going to be when you grow up.
ReplyDeleteHere in The South, young people use "ma'am" when talking to older people. I remember the first time i was "ma'amed". talk about feeling old.
ReplyDeleteIn place of the long nights, able to go for days on 3 hours sleep, and endless possibilities, you have experience, possibilities through your children, and the maniacs. Would you really go back to the other if you had the chance? really?
oh my fucking chills up my arms because yes yes and yes to all of it...what we lose and what we gain and what we find we need and what we don't...and do you feel me? cause i feel you? i mean... i get it, i don't "feel" you because, well, you have sweatpants on and...well, we just don't have to get into that but...
ReplyDeleteyes. fox. yes. Deep Thinking? do people do that anymore? you have to be too CONSCIOUS to do that. i am only partially conscious. especially when there is blood in my house. that's on a daily occurrence. so you get my point?
good. i knew you would.
LOVE THIS FUCKING POST
and
THANK YOU
Hey Stone. I walked to the store tonight in pretty much the outfit you described :-) Gosh.....now I'm waiting for my daughter to do the beer run....holy shit I'm still 26 in my head....when did I get old without realising it???? I kinda miss just thinking about myself and kissing any boys in sight but what a trade I got in my girl and her Dad....wouldn't change it for the world!!! xxx
ReplyDeleteYes. Those days. And they're are more and more of them. Not even so much about the fewer possibilities, but not longer the endless reserves of energy on too little sleep and too much to do.
ReplyDeleteThat's what makes it hard.
Possibilities? They seem... um, possible. But could someone get a crane and haul me outta (technical writing term) bed, or wind me up like the dancing doll in Coppelia????
Then there are the damn typos from the damn KEYBOARD not to mention dirty glasses and no windshield wipers on glasses and WHEN is someone going to invent that already?????
ReplyDelete(OK, slithering under the covers now... like an old person...)
I like to pretend that we don't have less possibilities, just more focused and refined possibilities. More possibilities I want, less of the ones I never pursued. Except... um, that might just add up to less. But I'm probably too sleep-deprived-tired to notice.
ReplyDelete