I write about my life and life itself seen through my eyes for who can write through the experiences of others if not their own?

Monday, April 05, 2010

Spring Fever

In the last few days a number of essays have been written in my head eclipsing my thoughts. They will make it to the blog eventually but not in consecutive order. That’s my way.

They are of reflection, of old memories. Of missing those who are no longer in my life be it by choice or distance or both.

Gloomy thoughts come to me on days that are far from gloom. Beautiful warm days are the ones that bring forward memories. Cold rainy days don’t elicit much. My thoughts are only occupied with house chores during those days.

When it’s nice and beautiful, I think of happy times. Seems that my mind is programmed to remember good, happy, fun times.

The thoughts that spring/summer days evoke are different. I see myself laughing, playing. Sitting on my porch or other’s talking and yes, that damn glass of wine in my hand.

There are no fights, no arguments, no misunderstandings when I remember people. I guess, if I did, I wouldn’t want to remember them. That must be what keeps them so alive in my memory longer at times than they were in my life, and longer than I lived in theirs.

Today I smiled while I ran and the passing train blew the whistle. On a warm beautiful day like today I sat on a beach and heard the train whistle and wondered why in the world I drove that distance and fought the traffic when the train could have brought me to the shore of New Jersey effortlessly. But the fun of those days made the effort seem a dust in the wind. That is one of the times that come to mind in warm beautiful days.

I have learned that happenings can not be recreated. No matter how many times we go back to the same place in search of the old good time, it can not be found. We can make new memories but can never replace the old ones. And the old ones…well, at times, in days like these, make me stop in time and think and when I think sometimes I miss…miss what no longer is and what will never be.

It is warm days, days of reflection, days of memories.