I have thought for many years that I live on, or somewhere near, Memory Lane.
And I mean that figuratively of course.
Which I also find kind of humorous because I have laughed at my memory problems, but yet I can’t help but constantly tread down the aforementioned lane.
I say this because I am always reminiscing.
How so, you ask?
Well yesterday it was by getting lost in old photos for hours.
Do you ever do that?
Dig through stuff at your house looking for one thing, only to spend in copious amount of hours just, well....looking?
So this makes me think that maybe Memory Lane isn’t actually a lane at all.
And maybe I don’t really live by it.
I think sometimes I just get stuck there.
I believe it’s actually a wicked roundabout.
Because I keep driving around, and around, and around.
And while I’m consumed by the ever continuous, and somewhat comforting circle, my options for exit are:
Reality Drive: Gah! No way! That’s dishes, laundry, cleaning…….
Dreamland Avenue: Check! Frequent visitor of this one.
Future Street: I’m just not ready for this!
Get-it-together-and-live-in-the-now Boulevard: Dang it. I usually take this exit.
So here I am.
Owning up to my sappy ‘back when’ reminiscing.
I think becoming a parent has started some horrible Fast Forward button in my life and I feel so helpless.
I believe this is why I have problems getting stuck in the past.
Why old memories suck me in, pull at my heart strings and keep me going in circles.
Lord knows I've written about it.
Oh yes, here too.
So I’m working on my coping skills.
I know it gets harder.
Babies were easy people.
I'm learning it’s the older ones that give heart attacks, aneurisms, and anxiety.
So take lots of photos so you can hide in the pantry and scroll through the ‘good ol’ days’ after your almost tween rolls their eyes and tells you,
‘you have no fashion sense’,
like they just walked off a photo shoot for Vogue or something.
Then take a photo.
Cause those are gonna be the good ol’ days someday too.
And I need some company at the roundabout.
Little by Little
Little by Little