hard thoughts

[kragore]

Things I've known that my children probably never will:

Walking down a quarter mile dirt driveway in all weather to catch the "short bus" not because we were special, but because there were so few of us on the route, they only needed to haul 6 skinny little butts.

Having your bus driver lady pull over and be a few minutes late for school because you all sat in the frosty early morning light and watched another generation of bovine greet the world, and then take it’s first few wobbly steps in a lonely field.

The smell of engine oil and gasoline from the old tractor on the cool fall air – playing in the waxy yellow beech trees, listening to the growl of the chainsaw as my father thinned trees for firewood.

Walking up that driveway again, watching the sunset with my father. Not understanding at the time why he'd stand and gaze at it so, and I'd dance there, impatient, but now I understand.

Tossing hay down the shoots into the horse's stalls, and listening to them chew, from up in the loft, and thinking about how all I wanted was to get home to dinner, and how all I'd like now is to be up in that loft, listening to them chew.

Traipsing through the forest with my sister, with no destination in mind. Just exploring. I always hoped to find old things – an arrowhead, a bit of metal, anything that gave the land the age I could feel. I never did find anything, but I never have stopped looking.

The inevitable turn of life; the calf of two years ago now a steer, making his debut on our dinner table, and all the respect and thanks that went with it.

The smell of damp newspaper – we got the daily and the Sunday every day of my sentient life. My parents read it every day, usually from cover to cover, over tea.

Building "dams" in the streams and trickles of water that ran all around. We didn't need much of an excuse, and I don't understand our diabolic drive to dam back the water, but it was good dirty fun that could keep us busy for hours or even days. Then a good rainstorm would come though, as if god was judging our engineering skills.
We passed if it was still standing.

The peepers and the fireflies and the path of stars through the sky… will they ever know these simple things"



All these things make me sad.
Makes me realize how far I've gotten from myself.
These are things that changed me, molded me, gave me an appreciation for life and the things around me.
I feel like I've turned my back on that simpler, slower, quieter life. And though it was a life without sushi, without Thai, without the variety of radio stations, without many of the creature comforts I’ve come to take for granted… There is something Missing. An important lesson that's gotten lost on my path...

It's as though as soon as I fill one hole in my life, I discover another slow leak…

These are the thoughts I think, in the late and the dark, when I can't sleep because my heart, while full, is so tired.

- k.

Comments

[devnul.livejournal.com]

I understand.

[nomadmwe.livejournal.com]

Not many of my earlier memories match yours. Some do (sunset watching, or just looking at the yard; the insane drive to dam any moving water) though, and I can really understand that long dark teatime lately.

[orionsmom.livejournal.com]

I envy your childhood. The farm life was something my father grew up with and worked to spare his children from. But there is something very appealing about the circle of life that comes from tending animals. I know its very hard work, but the experience is something I wish I had, had.

On the positive side, I don't believe that peepers, fireflies and stars will disappear completely. They are things that our children will experience but not nearly as often as we did as children. Also, they will have their own experiences and memories and listen to our stories with rapt attention (Until they are teenagers ;) )

Its all part of the circle of life and feels me with wonder. What experiences will our grandchildren treasure for childhood memories? Or their children? Will we have flying cars and vacations on the moon?

My point, if you call it that. Is while you are musing over the past, and things lost. Think of what the future holds. Know that, your children will be loved and raised in a safe environment. Know that, while their childhood experiences will not be yours, eventually they will be special to them.

I hope that brings a little ray of light to your darkness thoughts.

[kragore.livejournal.com]

That has always made me wonder - They worked to "spare" us from it, but there are quality lessons to be learned from it, that are difficult to find elsewhere.

I worry... That the things they will experiance will not hold the quality mine did. That they will get caught in the same breakneck pace before they can even experience the slowness, enought to know it exists.

That there is life outside virtual living - that they can exist without computers and xboxes.

I don't know. I guess I'm just at that worrying time.

Thanks for your ever-present optimism, though!
- k.

[orionsmom.livejournal.com]

I find I'm a lot happier with optimism. ;)

*hugs and stuff*

Points...

[lordbleys.livejournal.com]

"and I don't understand our diabolic drive to dam back the water, but it was good dirty fun that could keep us busy for hours or even days."

"Then a good rainstorm would come though, as if god was judging our engineering skills.
We passed if it was still standing."

"It's as though as soon as I fill one hole in my life, I discover another slow leak…"

"These are the thoughts I think, in the late and the dark, when I can't sleep because my heart, while full, is so tired."

I sense, a theme.

[motomuffin.livejournal.com]

This is why we bought the house we did, on the land that we did. Reminded me of my own childhood, traipsing through woods, seeing tadpoles in ponds; mud, trees, rocks.

Hooray for living in the Deep Weeds. ;)

[garou43.livejournal.com]

I know this guy who owns a bunch of land up in Maine. I'll ask him if he's gonna be going up there this spring/summer, and try to convince him to invite you. No guarantees, though...

[kragore.livejournal.com]

Tell that guy to hug his daughter tight for me.

I know she will know these things, eventually. :-)
- k.

[beled-el-djinn.livejournal.com]

That yearning for the peaceful, slow moving dance of life back before things got so complicated and the desire to share it with those you love and will love - yeah, I get that.

I think the "important lesson" that got lost is quite nicely summed up by the memory of your father watching the sun set. Of course that doesn't make the longing and emptiness feel any better. Good luck with that.

[kragore.livejournal.com]

Thank you.
- k.