I made a terrible tactical error today.
I was well on the way to recovery this summer, well on the way. I was so over that whole “postdepartum” thing, you know? Empty nest syndrome? Pah!
I was doing really, really well. Kayaking with friends, taking nice long dog walks. Gardening, reading, going to the beach, enjoying quiet dinners with Paul.
Well on the way to recovery, that was me!
But, you see, one of my annual summer chores is to organize closets and deal with all the photos that have accumulated over the year. I tell myself that I can’t do these things during the school year because I’m such a busy, busy lady! I put chores like these off until the lovely, restful days of summer.
So this morning I gathered up a big pile of pictures, and a few photo albums. My thought was that there might be room in some of the albums for me to store the new pictures. Not very organized, I know, but at least its better than the old shoebox storage technique.
I grabbed the first album, popped it open, and fell into the abyss.
Like a punch to the chest. Like falling off a ladder and landing hard. I had the breath knocked right out of me.
There they were, my beautiful, smiling children, arms entwined, laughing at the camera. Page after page of special moments: beach trips, camping trips, blueberry picking, amusement parks. Sunburned little noses, and gap toothed grins. Sun hats, baseball caps, visors and bike helmets. Every happy summer moment of the past, captured in beautiful color, right there in my hands.
I leafed carefully through every page, remembering each special moment, each funny adventure. I scanned most of the best pictures, saving them on line so that I will never lose them. I cleaned out the closet, put the albums back, wiped my eyes and blew my nose.
It was just a setback, OK? Tomorrow I’ll be back on that cheery road to the future, on my way to full recovery.
Sure I will.