Passage of Time and Place

The other night I was thinking of other places we've lived, and I started feeling nostalgic for the locations of the past. I even got tearful, thinking of what I had then that I don't have now. Never a good idea, to start down that road.

I was thinking of the amazingly thick, lush lawn we had in Medina. The greenest lawn on the block, because Scott always watered. I thought of times when we played in the back yard on that green lawn, little boys in diapers running through the sprinkler, while I picked tomatoes and beans from the garden and Scott mowed the lawn. I could almost smell those summer evenings... and I felt cheated that I don't have that setting anymore.

I thought also of fall afternoons in the woods, when the kids would have stayed until dark if it were up to them, so intent on their little adventures with sticks and other forest stuff. I remember lying on my back in the yellow leaves, looking up at the autumn sky. I thought of baby Madelyn, sitting contentedly in the leaves, crunching them in her fists. As I remembered, I felt sad that I don't have any woods to go hang out in for the afternoon, in Shanghai.

Do you see where this train of thought took me? Definitely to discontent.

The next day, as I relived my sad thoughts from the night before, I had a revelation. The times and places I was missing were nothing more than double page spreads in my photo album. They were little moments in time when my kids were little, and real everyday life wasn't nearly as idyllic as my daydreams of the previous day recollected. They looked so good in the photos... and they were good. But they had their own frustrations, I'm sure of it. All I remember now are what's captured between the pages of my album... and that's not what reality was. Those photos show it all in the best light... preschoolers tattling isn't pictured, nor is the frustration of having to mow the lawn at the end of a long day, nor the child whining all the way home from the woods.

I'm in a different place now, literally. My kids are older. I've written here before about the "hang out in the woods with mom" thing... that time is fleeting, and even gone for several of my brood. We're doing new things in a new place.

In some ways, I'd give anything to go back to my green backyard in Medina, or my perennial garden beside the garage in Aurora. But they wouldn't be the same places anymore, even if I did. Life has moved on.

Good thing I've got those photos... moments in time captured on a double page spread. At least I can pull the albums off the shelf and remember. The times and the places, in the most positive light.

And then move on to reality, today.