Stories from an Empty Nester

There are times I miss being a child. When you could open a gift, any gift and make it magical. I mean, take a toddler who is more fascinated by the sounds of crinkling wrapping paper or the empty boxes than the toys they received. The inspiration and imagination they draw off the paper, the boxes and sometimes, even the toys themselves.

I could see giving a four year old child a box full of dirt, not the comercial "Magic Sand", but plain old dirt from the backyard. I could see a girl adding water and making mud pies for her dollies or a boy using it as an arena for his newly acquired Matchbox cars, spinnning the tires.

But, give an adult a box of dirt, and they will be offended. We have lost our imaginative thought process, or at least some of it. Plant a big old red bow on the box of dirt and you still have, well...a box full of dirt. We rarely would ever think of planting a seed and making a box garden. No, that is not where our thought process goes. It goes to the opposite end of the spectrum, disappointment. Well, maybe not for all adults...but I am sure for most. Including myself. I have no scientific data to relate on this subject. Just a thought I was piecing together on my walk this morning.

No, I didn't give anyone a gift they were truly disappointed in. No, that's not the case at all. I loved all of my gifts as well. I just related a gift of this type to the feeling I am having over some issues in my life: how do you overcome something that isn't real, but you still cannot shake the feeling? How can I make mudpies out of something that is grinding on my nerves? A pretty little bow makes appear all fine and dandy, but the image of the gift is still as ugly as ever.

I took that walk because the sun gave me hope, and walking clears my head most times. I did feel better at the end of the walk, but a nagging still tugs on me. I counted my blessings, thank god for the beautiful day for a long awaited walk and told myself time and time again, "Don't make a mountain out of a mole hill." I won't. Just seems lately, there are alot of mole hills in my backyard. Starts to grate on one's nerves after awhile. Yet, I let them set there...untouched, not spoken of, just....there.

Give me a big ol' pile of dirt, a little rain water and I will make mudpies. Throw in some old fashion Tonka trucks and I will have a blast just as I did in my youth...girl or not. I just have to find that imaginative thought process and sort out this dirt pile as one that is fleeting, and let that rain water wash it all away. Before the dirt pile becomes too large and I begin to shake. The inevitable avalanche to follow, sure to end my sorrows...and bring on new ones.

I won't be that child again, so I have to let my feelings grow. Good or bad, let them unfold and deal with them as they come. Let the rain fall, afterall....you have to have rain to make a rainbow. I am starting to feel the sunshine again. Bring on the rainbows, mudpies and watch me ride off in the sunset in a 4X4 Tonka Truck.