Today Thing One asked, “Do you think someday I’ll be nostalgic for this trip? For living in the RV?” Right now I’m laying on our bed, Brent napping silently next…
Today Thing One asked, “Do you think someday I’ll be nostalgic for this trip? For living in the RV?”
Right now I’m laying on our bed, Brent napping silently next to me, as winter storm approaches over the distant mountains. Thing One and Thing Two are playing a game of chess, an insisted upon break from technology.
The peace is engulfing.
Dead Can Dance is playing over the stereo bringing back memories of college. Memories of conversations filled with questions. The sort of questions we seem to forget to ask as we grow older. Memories of groggy but happy mornings after a late night dancing with friends. Memories of exhilaration contemplating the unknown and “open road” of an entire life ahead of you.
Then my thoughts drift to the smell of Rosie’s barn and my 11 years old hands rubbing the muzzle of my horse, my first true love…
I’m so nostalgic that sometimes I miss things that have yet to happen.
Returning to the present…
Yes, Thing One and Thing Two, someday I think you’ll hear a Muzak version of Radiohead in an elevator and remember meals and family prayers around our little dinette. The mention of Harry Potter won’t bring back memories of spells and wands but of long drives and shared emotions. The smell of diesel might spark a strange desire to hold the ones you love.
This is why that I’m making a decision to catch up on this little blog, our public diary. For you Thing One. For you Thing Two. For you, my love.
When that nostalgia hits I want us to be able to pull these memories down off a shelf and remember the beignets covered with mounds of powdered sugar in New Orleans. Remember the excitement of riding the subway in New York. Remember cozy days on the couch doing school. Remember the winter we spent riding snowboards like magic carpets.
Remember when your crazy parents moved you into an RV to live like newschool nomads and we shared a closeness that I know will leave me aching with nostalgia.
Love and Laughter,
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