Monday, March 29, 2010

Late for Today

Isn't it so funny how sometimes time can stand so completely still? And I'm not talking about those moments you read about in books where "I looked into his eyes and time stood completely still". I'm talking about those moments where something so subtle can bring you back so far so quickly and make you feel like you never left, like you never grew up, like things haven't changed so much.

It doesn't take much for me to experience this type of nostaglia, or so I noticed today. It can be the simplest thing. Take, for example, a visit to the dentist's office. The very same dentist you've gone to your whole entire life. As soon as I walk through the doors I am 10 years old all over again. Despite some random updates in equipment, everything is exactly the same--from the big automatic chairs, to the yellowish tinge in the overhead lights, to the reception desk and all the fun prizes hidden behind it (the stickers and bouncey balls and  plastic froggies). The years have passed everywhere else in the world except for that dentist office, where I am still that little girl, nervous to be there again and excited to have a day off school. I am that little girl when I open the door to Book City and smell that familiar smell of books old and new, thick and thin, black and white or coloured all over. The same Book City with the same yellow and black sign with the same shelves. All of a sudden I am tugging at my mother's jacket, begging her for the latest Berenstain Bear book to add to my already vast collection. Memories seep through the walls and standing in that room again brings them back into painfully vivid focus.

No, it does not take much at all to take us back. A movie, a storybook, a favorite meal, a cartoon show, a bowl of cereal, waking up to the surprise of cooking pancakes. And even if it's just for a moment, everything is erased. All that we have gone through over however many years that have passed. Getting over our first day of school, making our first friend, conquering our first ever homework assignment, graduating from high school, getting our degree, getting over a flu, healing a broken bone, healing a broken heart...losing someone you love.... And for that moment everything is right again. And nothing has ever hurt enough to leave a scar. We have so much to gain and at the same time everything to lose. And you feel so innocent but still so indestructable. And so motivated and not quite yet jaded. And nothing is impossible.

And everything is possible.

And dreams aren't just for dreaming, but goals for acheiving.

And then you come back to now and you are determined once again. And now I am refreshed all over again.

But a piece of me wishes time could go back and stand still forever. And I wouldn't have to just pretend you were waiting for me in the waiting room. And I wouldn't have to see you in the paintings on the wall, or fly fishing picture frames you made on the counters. Or feel you in the eyes of an old friend. And the time I spend with you wouldn't need to end when I wake up. And I wouldn't need these moments to be reminded of you, because you'd be in the car right next to me.

2 comments:

  1. like i already said, i knew what this was about right away. its crazy how certain sights, sounds, smells, etc. can bring us back to times and places without us even realizing it.

    i wish i was in that car too--even if the signal prompt was always beeping. especially, actually <3

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