These Are The Days

I've been feeling a bit cranky lately. I'm not sure what it is. I suspect a bit of grief. When grief and nostalgia come to the forefront, one needs some time to ponder . . . to reflect and feel the loss. Such moments are difficult to come by with the constant chatter of young children. There is no thought that can last more than 3 minutes without interuption, and that can make a person edgy. But, to be honest, I have no excuse for being cranky. Lileks gave me a little cyber smack today to bring me back around:

"And today, out of nowhere, I thought: Beslan.

It was a quote from a grieving mother that stayed with me: We never knew how happy we really were. You get caught up in the logistics and time tables – got to get her home by noon so she can have lunch (the sandwich, apple slices, gummi vitamin, milk – please, finish your milk, why is this so hard) and get off to the next class, and it just FIGURES that it’s not long enough to get your oil changed, it just FIGURES.

You can live in that fugue state of annoyance and obligation, or you can relax and enjoy. (And be late for the rest of the day.) I am relaxing and enjoying; I am making this summer last as long as I can, because it’s the last of its kind. Some year there will be a summer where she’s big and busy and the dog is gone and some unforeseen sadness will drape over the month like a wet tarp, and the utter ordinariness of these days will seem like some lost perfect paradise."

Wisdom speaks.