...finally, it's Fall. For me it's the most beautiful time of the year (odd, to see beauty as everything is dying off)...everything is nestled into my favorite colors. The air is crisp. The oven beckons to be turned on. Soup is on the stove. Finally, it's trips to the pumpkin patches that we are now looking forward to. I found one just up the road from where we live, Harvestville Farm. If the place is half as beautiful as it's stunning pictures portray it, it might become a family tradition. So, it didn't surprise me today, when Nora had a suggestion for another afternoon road trip.
"So, I say we just go to the bathroom, get our shoes on, get in the car and hit the road...We can eat at McDonald's when we get there...", said Nora. I was wondering where she had us heading, while I figured Quincy, I thought I'd ask her just the same. Her answer, well that became a game of 23,456 questions, most of which I didn't have the answers for. In her most logical, phonetically "th" challenged voice, she responds, "....well, we are going to hit the road and drive to heaven, of course..."
Sometimes I think she can read minds. No, seriously, it's freaking frightening. In the last couple of days, I've been noticing how people measure time. Now, I've been told by my brilliant friend April, who has studied this very subject, that the entire concept of measuring time...was brought on by a woman. Interesting, but not surprising. The whole idea of a woman knowing her bodily rhythms, became an important measure of time way, way back when. Growing up, I always remember the nuns in school measuring time with The Vatican I & II. The older you get, you measure time by where you are, what you have done. My kid's measurement of time are based around holidays or seasons but also as Nora likes to put it, "...before Daddy went to heaven/ after Daddy went to heaven". I think that is an interesting way of measuring time, leaves little up for question. The one burning question I'd like to ask this four year old, how long ago was that?
For me, it's tough. For me, time is something that I yearn for, wishing there were more hours in the day. I sort of run from at the same time, wishing I could push the clock forward...if for no other reason than to be able to exhale, and know it all worked out. With the exception of Atticus and the orange jumpsuit, I'm not that naïve. For me, the last 11 or so months, have seriously felt like years. So much so, that at times, I get a little pissed at myself, thinking, why the hell haven't I gotten this done or that figured out...I have to remind myself that my old life, isn't even fully visible in my rear view mirror. I have to remind myself that this hasn't been this way forever. I guess, maybe even that is oddly gratifying. There was a time, last Fall, that I seriously (also silently) doubted we'd even make it out alive, how would I make any of this work? While my hours are long, sleep fleeting, and my hearing ability heightened for mayhem...those bags under my eyes, they're brand new. They will become deeper...awesome. No matter how I have become accustomed measuring time, I'm at least grateful that I have been given it...that and the ability to remove myself and my children from a situation, recognizing there might be witnesses...Harvetville Farms, here we come!!
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