I look out my window
and I see my son’s Tonka trucks, gathered into a circle, by me, over the weekend — so that I could take a picture. They look . . . abandoned. Forlorn. It’s a gray day, not very pleasant, and Nate has no interest in playing with them. Instead, he is running around in various states of dress — this morning he was in full Peter Pan costume; right now, he is dressed as Spiderman. He loves to be anyone but himself.
I see the yard full of leaves, showing me that in spite of 80° (sometimes even 90°) days in the last week or two, we are well into the march toward winter. The days are short — sww goes to work in the dark, comes home in the dark, grinds away at work, school, helping to maintain a home — I wonder sometimes if there’s any joy left in his life. I miss the sun. I taught in a classroom for five years that had no windows, no connection to the outside, and I spent many a break between classes dashing down the two flights of stairs, outside for an instant, just to feel the sun on my face. Reconnect with its force. Life is not meant to be lived only in artificial light and in darkness. We are meant to revel in the sun.
I see a squirrel running along the top of the back fence, pausing and sitting up every couple of seconds — for what, I don’t know. We put Nate’s birdfeeder in a tree, and so far I have seen it attract no birds, but many many squirrels. I would like to get some real birdfeeders for our yard. There are a few teeny tiny birds flitting through one of the trees. I have no idea what kind of bird they are; nearly as small as hummingbirds, neutral in color. The squirrel has gone under the Tonka trucks now. I wonder what he expects to find.
I see Nate’s bright blue shovel, that he uses to plant acorns or just to make holes in the ground. I think he misses his sandbox. I see him looking at the backyard sometimes, looking lost — like this is not how it supposed to be; this is not where I am supposed to be. I miss the joy he used to have in playing outside while I sat on the porch and watched. I hope, as he becomes more and more accustomed to the new backyard, that joy comes back.
We’re missing too much joy in our lives. We all need to find it again. Every day I think it’s getting better, but there are moments of every day I feel I’m just deluding myself. It’s just as dark as it’s been for months. The trick is not to let those moments crush me.
