My children are getting ready for summer vacation. I am happy for them (getting three months off is a good thing), but this time of year is also a conflict for me. Some of my most treasured childhood memories occured in the summer time.
Every year, around mid-april I start remembering the things that meant something to me long ago. So while I am happy for my kids, I am also a little sad.
The things we remember seem so far away, and yet hold such a massive amout of emotion. Why is that? Why is it that the memories of the past interfer and enter the present? Why does the past remind us that it’s there time and time again?
They flood back into my mind, the fort we built in the vacant lot across the street. Swimming in the lake at my grandparents, golfing with my grandfather, helping my dad cut down a tree (and then running like heck ’cause the tree started to fall towards me!). All memories that I treasure from long ago.
Of course there are new summer memories (melting at my wedding in june – litteraly), taking my children to Thailand all treasured new memories, nestling insdie my head alongside the old ones. It’s just that the new ones take time to be recalled, and the old ones seem so far away its sad. Time marches on, driving us through years and decades until only memories remain, and those only of the great and sad moments.
I miss the past and the people that filled it.