I was reminded by a friend that the summers in the sixties seemed so much better. They were longer, and the pace of life was much more leisurely. I spent those glorious days playing baseball, golf, and guitar. There was time to get a little band together…play some songs.
There were books to be read that I wanted to read, not some boring book assigned for a class. There was iced tea that Momma made to cool us down. There were walks to take, and rides in the cool cars of the “older” guys.
There were trips to the cool solace of Grandma’s house up in the mountains, and the resulting explorations. There was great music, the best ever, to be listened to. There were friendships to be cultivated that would last forever…many who are still surviving today.
But then, there was that inevitable day when down inside you a longing for the fall and the “new year” to start would come creeping into your brain. School was always a love/hate relationship but looking back now through the rearview mirror it wasn’t so bad. No, actually it was more than not bad, it was good. Even with some of the crisis we thought were so earth shattering at the time.
We moved on and became adults, and took on all the responsibilities that go with it. We raised our kids, worked our jobs. We lived our lives.
Things were as they should be. Things are as they are going to be. It’s inevitable. Change is inevitable, sometimes for the better, sometimes not.
Still, it doesn’t hurt to wander back every now and then in our minds to the days when we worried more about what notebook to buy for school than we do about how we’re gonna pay our bills. It’s actually soothing to the soul.
It matters very little in the end what we have done or said while we live. For most of us, we effect only a handful of people with our lifetime actions. It’s the ripple effect that takes place after we are gone which counts. For you see, our pebble is not thrown in the pond of history when we are born, but only when we die.
In the future, nothing is going to be the same. I suppose that’s always been the case, hasn’t it?
Each generation has our own time, we have our own historical setting. We have the “good old days” which have belonged to us and us alone. The unique time which has been given to us, and which passes us by like a combination run of the tortoise and the hare. Slow the days….swiftly the years.
As I was driving to Rome today for a Drs. appointment, I had that feeling you sometimes get when you think you’ve been there before, and done that before. The deja vu affect. I think it’s simply because that particular drive, that particular way to go, is so familiar. I’ve traveled this way hundreds, or perhaps thousands of time. As a child I dreamed that Mom and Dad and I ran off the road in a rainstorm at the big curve right after you go by Hunters furniture. I still remember that dream vividly.
I felt a deep sense of nostalgia driving back today. Could have been because the dermatologist froze a big spot on my forehead and kinda cooled my skull down. Maybe cryogenics is the way to go after death.
All I know is that our HS 50th reunion is this summer, and that friends that I loved and played little league ball with, are passing away or are already gone. I don’t feel old, not really…but I know time is ticking away….slow the days , but swift the years…
“but, I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep…and miles to go before I sleep.”