It must be the season. Spring Fever or something.
It must be the season. Spring Fever or something.
Memories ...of the way we were.
I know t is trite, but i just had to say it.
I had a nice cry reading your post, u must have esp, i was also feeling this way. I just couldn't say it quite as well as u.
((((( esmerelda )))))
We keep people like that alive with our memories. I guess the best that we ourselves can hope for ultimately is to be fondly remembered by those who follow us, at least the immediate ones.
I was really maudlin last night, I feel a bit better this morning - it's a bright sunny day and a Friday to boot.
It's great seeing Liam really excited about his birthday that's coming up soon - he now knows what he's getting and keeps grinning from ear to ear while he counts the days down. He's a very thoughtful and empathetic lad ... he wanted to give an invite to the little girl that we sometimes take to school or comes home after school (in Dylan's class and lives round the corner). She wasn't too keen on the boyish 'Spiderman' invite card so he rushed off to make her a card with a flower on and wrote himself "Dear Alice, I love you, please come in 12 days" He also wants us to buy barbie party bags for all the girls ... mmn, my boy is quite the ladies man !
Simon, hey man...I hear ya!
I periodically will do similarly. I will go to some pocket in my mind and try to re-live mentally, a special time, a special place.
When I think of going back to my grandparent's home in Nova Scotia, I always loved the smell of their house. I loved the lay out, the old steel-top stove with the lifters on it, and the smell of home cooked everything.
Looking out of my grandmother's window, I could see the harbour, to which many boats crossing the Atlantic would come in. My grandmother knew every one of them. I thought she knew everything. She knew what time the boats to Newfoundland would leave and arrive; she knew when the Swedish ships would come and go, and other nations.
Nanny (as I called my grandmother) would give us bowls and send us up over the rocky hills to pick blueberries, cranberries and other wild fruit (crab apples, wild cherries). We'd bring them back, and she'd make something out of it. Nanny was simply the best.
My grandfather used to work for the department of highways, and he drove a huge grader (tractor-like thing, but massive). He'd come let us go up and sit in the cab, and he'd take us maybe a few yards. We'd get scared, and want down. But they would, Nanny and Grampy - never disappoint us. They were strict, but fair and loving.
There are other moments I can go back to as well, some pleasant, some not so nice, but they are still etched in my mind. I can remember the mid-1960s as a kid, and having cool baby sitters playing my father's hi-fi and I'd hear all the Beatles records and other bands from that era. I'd dance to the music and know all the words to the songs.
Anyways, Simon...it's good we can do that. It's so grounding to us when we can still recall a moment. We may not be able to recall 100% detail, but the essence of it: absolutely.
I was smiling and laughing when I read Liam's note to that little girl. So cute!
Geez...I like this thread, you got me rewinding the clock as well.
Take care Simon, thanks for sharing that, it made my morning.
I probably spend too much time thinking about how much of life I missed out on because of the Dub thang, but it’s good to also reflect on what was good about my life long ago. And now.Got me noddin’ my head, Dude.
Very nice post, Simon. A gem.
I can relate buddy....not so much to looking back over the past...I'm a little melancholy thinking of all the changes going on in my life NOW. Seems kind of silly when I analyze it logically...but it's not logic that causes my heart to be squeezed and tears to spring to my eyes...and I'm one of those rare females who doesn't cry easily.
Ah well, I STILL live by one simple philosophy, and it's helping me get through this emotional time. Find something to enjoy in EVERY day. So far, I've been able to do that. Hang in there Simon.
It is so true that as we watch our children grow, we re-live our own life. We remember so much--even things we thought we had forgotten. The mind is a computer that holds our life' moments. Certain places, smells, sounds, and people bring something back in a rush, and it's nearly too much for us sometimes. We are saddened that so much of our life has slipped by so quickly. We wonder about past decisions we've made. We consider the options of being at a turning point in life. We begin to really "see" the adults that made up our life as children. We see them as human beings and not just the labels of mom, dad, grandma, grandpa, aunt, uncle, cousin, best friend next door.
When our mind is so full of these things, we cannot truly exist in the here and now, and we become meloncholy and morose. This is all very natural and part of the process of growing and changing. Times when we reflect on our life, to see where we are, and what it is we truly want or need for real happiness. If we find we are happy, this is a good thing. Sometimes what we see is painful, and we find that we need to make a change.
We are born. We live. We die. This is what we humans call "life cycles".
This too shall pass.
Awwww...Simon, you ol' softy!
I think you are sweet. I'm in a melancholy mood, as well, since it is Mother's Day weekend...and I'm missing my mom and my daughter. <whole lotta cryin' goin' on here> Now you git me thinkin' 'bout my gram....sheesh!!! <more tears>
Long as I don't short out my 'puter...guess I'll reminisce, too!
I remember when I was about four or five, my dad and mom would pack us all up in the front of our '55 Chev half ton truck and off we would go. (There...a pic of my brothers, myself, and my mom... and dad, the grouchy one) ...a 20 minute trip to gramma and grandpa's house. Gram would be soooo happppeeeee to see us, we would file past her and get a big wet one on the cheek! She was soooo happy to see us, she'd be crying. And her English accent was even more pronounced with her excitement of seeing us all. Of course, I was her favorite, being the only litle girl mixed in with the pack of boys.
Gram always had a chocolate cake for us....home made...moist to perfection....iced with dark chocolate icing...and sprinkled with coconut. Yum!
And she had an old black and white television set where I got my first glimpse of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers gliding across the ballroom floor...sheesh! So that's where my passion for dancing begins!!!
Gram always grew flowers all around her house, and I would pick a bouquet to bring to her. She was so grateful, she would put them in a vase in the middle of the table. She was soooo happy to see us.
Gram always had cats....and never-ending batches of kittens...everywhere!!! What a treat for a little girl so full of wonder! She lived on an acreage where it was easy to wander around and explore all the neat stuff that she had.
Thanks, Simon....this is very healing to reminisce about those sweet days with my beloved gram. She has been dead for about eight years, and I still miss her.
Love you and Angharad!
aww thank you all for sharing these memories, Simon, Ghost, and Essie. I wish I had happy memories to look back on. It was wonderful to look back on those times with you.
Those were the days my friend,
We thought they'd never end,
We'd sing and dance forever and a day.
We'd live the life we choose,
We'd fight and never loose,
Those were the days, Oh yes, those were the days.
I'm with you Simon. I have been writing a book now for quite some time relating growing up on the fringes of Guale at my grandparent's farm way out in the wilds of coastal South Georgia. Working on this book always puts me in a state of high melancholia. I knew I was having a ball, but little did I realize I was having the time of my life, and that one day it would all go away never to be repeated.
I have submitted it to Peachtree Press in Atlanta. They have requested to see more. Perhaps they will publish it. Oh, what a thrill! being on Oprah during the opening days of my first book tour. (Well, if you're going to dream, you might as well dream BIG)