Today, a piece of my childhood was laid to rest. There is a cost for spreading your wings and leaving the nest. In some ways, sections of your life morph into a caricature of someone you once knew but have lost contact with over the years. You don't realize that organic reminiscing is collateral damage to a life you left behind. Memories fade without reliving them until they don't feel real--like a dream or a story you read.
When significant people from earlier chapters pass away, you are left to grieve the layers alone. Grieve for time that slipped away when visits were harder and harder to manage. Years of growth and change are so disconnected you don't even know how to explain who you have become or how it happened.
Carefree years roaming the streets of your grandmother's neighborhood, scraped knees bandaged by whoever lived in the house your bike crashed in front of, strawberry milk at one, tang at another, fresh treats from an oven if you were lucky. Who was that girl? I see her in pictures and know she was happy. She didn't know that was the only time she would live in the same community as her family. She didn't realize that her sense of belonging would be flung into a life where she would have to plant new roots and build a family if she wanted one.
Today, I'm melancholy. I wonder what it's like to have a grown-up life where you are surrounded by family. Wondering what it feels like to know you have a standing place where you never wonder if you fit in. Today, I mourn alone and spend time trying to remember. Sweet memories like when a group of teenage girls considered what it must feel like to live alone, they decided to add the houses of single older ladies into their spend-the-night rotation. Ms. Christine was so happy to have the company that she would talk the whole time she brushed her teeth. She told the best stories and knew unique details about generations past.
It's exciting to see where life takes you. It's a fun adventure, but there is always a cost. Today, I'm paying the bill. But I'm also digging deep into my past and trying on long-forgotten memories to see if I can make them fit--snuggling up in their warmth.
Check on people who aren't 'from there.' If you've never lived away from family, I think it can be easy to overlook how lonely it can be at times. Something is grounding about knowing that you belong.
I was so lonely when I left home for college: A small-town girl in a huge pond, so unknown. I cried a lot. My mom gave me advice, which I still use and share with girls today. She let me be sad for a while, then said, "That's enough thinking only about you. Look around, see who is in worse shape, and love on them." She was right. Sadness can't be allowed to linger unchecked. It hit me if I was lonely; I bet the widows and single ladies who had lived around my grandmother's block must feel lonely a lot. So when sadness crept up, I sat and wrote letters. It gave my idle time purpose and hopefully made some sweet ladies who had loved on me smile.
Empathy is best learned through experience, unfortunately. I don't want to lose that tenderness towards lonely people. It's the worst feeling. Especially today, I am so thankful I made the effort to let those ladies know they had value and were loved. I'll let myself feel my feelings today; then tomorrow, I will go to Target and remind myself there are some benefits of not staying in a small town.
Beautifully said….she was a special lady to many. 💕