Roots

I lost a childhood schoolmate this past week. I knew him during the golden childhood years. The years where life,seemed to me, like a country time lemonade commercial. Days full of bike riding, river swimming, game playing and pure blissful happiness. I spent a lot of time with this boy. We were put in accelerated classes together. We played together. He lived next door to me.  He was the sweet boy in glasses when I was a child. Full of life. I have one of those kinds of little boys, right here in my own home. The last time I saw this boy we were 22 years old. In the library. About ready to graduate from college. He was truly happy to see me and I was truly happy to see him. We crossed paths several times in college. When I heard heard he died I got a lump in my throat and had to leave the house for a bit. Even though we were not close, it was a part of my childhood that had quickly moved into the realms of adulthood, to reality, and I feel at the ripe old age of 33, we should not be mourning our classmates. Parents should never have to mourn their children.
We all have roots. My husband and I both grew up in fairly small towns. He was a little more rooted than I was. We spent the weekend in his hometown, as we always do this time of year. Sometimes I feel like the city girl visiting from another planet there, but am quickly reminded of my husband’s love of his home and are welcomed by everyone that lives there.  Even though I only live in a town of 50,000 people, life is much different here than it is there. My son won’t have the same childhood we had. My husband and I both sometimes don’t know what to think about that. He has so many more opportunities here. He is able to be involved in so much more here. Yet, he won’t know a childhood of free roaming like we did. And that’s OK. He is making his own memories of his own childhood, they are just a little bit different than our own. And he will still have memories of bike riding and river swimming and game playing, and so much more….because we will make sure that all happens too. It will be just as golden as ours was.

 

1 comment
  • Sam

    Awwww….I love this, it hits home…the whole thing. Thanks for that.