I sit and observe out my picture window to see what is happening. The front of my house is along side a steep hill at about the halfway mark. There are two neighborhoods below. Various makes and models of cars whiz up and whiz down, some filled with many people, others with just a driver. (Well, you need at least a driver, would be quite odd if there was only a passenger now wouldn’t it! snicker!). Squirrels swing from limb to limb in the giant oak tree out front, a chatting young couple walk by pushing a baby stroller . A neighbor and her dog run by. You don’t need a gym membership if you live in our neighborhood, “the hill” is a workout in itself. I for one ,am very grateful when I take my beloved Husky/Shepard/Wolf out for a walk and he pulls me back up the hill. But, no matter what I see as I gaze outside, I am not a part of it. I am an observer.
My aging vehicle sits in the driveway. She has been my steadfast bosom buddy for many wonderful years. We have 4-wheeled to mountaintops, driven long distance to fun vacations and taken many a munchkin back and forth to sporting events… She and I share memories of days of wherever they would fit/sardine stuffed kids giggling, radio blasting and group sing-a-longs. The kids have grown and she is tired now, so I baby her. She is saved for back and forth to work or grocery shopping.
Is “the she” my car or me? Have I placed myself in the same category as my beloved vehicle?
I think the time has come to move beyond the window gazing, save my memory savoring for lazy Sunday afternoons and once again join the world. I have laid dormant long enough. It is time to make new memories, enjoy new adventures, to live….