I picture you flipping to the chart of firsts, that page where I'm supposed to write down every first from your First Year of Life, and even some milestones from your toddler years. Your baffled gaze runs down the page, finding only a few scattered notes. And I'll try to explain, to help you understand.
I was a bystander in their doll games, a witness to it all. I saw the Oregon Trail from a distance, looking out the kitchen window, glimpses of three pony tailed heads and the pink wheels bumping along through the grass. I cannot bring the dolls back. But I can call up these memories, clear as a summer day on the prairie.
It was the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend and I was driving to the beach. As I neared the bridge, my eyes unconsciously ticked down to the time. As I closed in on my destination, I always checked the clock because the bridge opened every half hour for boats to pass and no one ever wanted to "catch" the bridge.
Mother's Day is here and it's my first one without Mom. My mother, Evelyn Levine, died on April 19, and it was a huge personal loss as well as the end of an era. She was the last of the Greatest Generation in her family. More importantly, she was an amazing mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, as well as my biggest fan.
As a child, I didn't understand the importance of the sites I was witnessing. Now, I want to travel the world and see historical sites. I want to be Intellectually stimulated. Am I wrong? Was I an immature anomaly that was just uninterested? Or does traveling when young actually create unappreciative memories that deter you from traveling there later in life?