When I dream… April 18, 2008
Posted by keekers in 1.Tags: breeze, children, dreams, hugs, kisses, quiet, regret, Simple, simple life, Summer, wants, warm, wishes
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All through my marriage, I would dream…
Dream about all the things I would have done differently…if I had really thought about it, and given it the focus it needed.
I remember thinking that I would have put myself in the environments that were at least on the path of where I wanted to end up…where I wanted to be in my daily life…If I had the chance to do it, again…I would find a way…
I would have spent more time in the mountains…tried to be closer to horses…
…and I would have found myself a small town man…Maybe even a cowboy…(that sounds so funny to me!) Someone who…well, that’s probably a different post. ; )
I had actually gotten myself on the outskirts of Denver, with a little piece of property, and great “views” of those mountains I longed for…my sweet dad built a beautiful garden for me…and I even got my porch…but as close as I was to the “picture”…it still felt so far from me.
And no matter what I did, the view from my life wasn’t made for my eyes, and so I kept them closed…
…and dreamed.
I wanted things to slow down some…to be quiet…simple.
I wanted to hang my sheets out on a clothesline, if I wanted…I wanted to see them blowing in the wind. I wanted to rush out when the rain came and get them before they got wet.
I remember a friend of my calling to tell me that they had just spent $3000.00 on a new washer and dryer…
I just wanted a clothesline…just a clothesline….
Silly…
I wanted to wash my dishes by hand, in that hot, soapy water, while I watched my children in the backyard, out the window over my sink. I wanted to see the stack of plates and rows of glasses sitting next to the sink to dry. I wanted that quiet but for the occasional clink of a dish…and the transistor radio playing on top of my refrigerator.
I want to lay on my bed under the open windows, framed with white sheers…and let the warm breeze lift them over me…
I want to be happy when this wonderful man comes in the door…I want to miss him…I want to open the door before he gets to it…and hug him, and kiss his face, without being afraid to let him know that I’m so glad he’s there. There was even a day…when I came so close…and a day that I will always regret… when, for a moment, there was a man…I saw him coming up the walk, and I forgot my guard…and I threw the door open…there he stood…this person who was becoming important…and necessary…
…and I caught myself.
…afraid that he would see all that I was feeling at the mere sight of him.
…the mere sight of him…I froze.
…and kept it to myself.
I want…
I want that moment…when I finally have the courage to go through with it.
I want to wear cotton dresses and go barefoot, all summer long…and let my hair dry loose and curly…I want to first hear the gravel in my driveway, before I ever see a car…I want to greet my friends from my porch, as they get out the car. I want my house to smell of something wonderful on the stove…and have everything my family touches be soft and smell good..give them that memory of “home”.
I want to get up every morning before dawn, when it’s cool and dewy outside…turn on a low light, and fill my house with the smell of coffee…I want to open the back door off of my kitchen, and let the morning come in through the screen door…and feed the yearly wild kittens the scraps from breakfast.
I wanted my children to run all summer long…ride their bikes, imagine and explore all day…only to rush in for lunch and with the slap of that screen door, go right back out again, until dusk. I wanted them to come inside tired, with dirty hands and filthy ankles…from laying in the grass, digging holes, playing in the creek, hide and go seek, kick the can…squealing and laughing…and dancing in the rain..and finally dragging themselves from the warm, soapy bath and into their jammies…and fall asleep without a care, but what to do tomorrow…
I want an old, one car garage, detached and at the back of the yard…and on Saturdays, when I’m outside, I can hear the low playing radio coming through the open garage door…and an occasional clang of a tool hitting concrete.
Yep, I’m a dork.
And I ask a lot.
I “want” a lot.
Too much I suppose…or maybe they’re just days gone by…
…because I just can’t seem to find it…anywhere…except when I close my eyes… : )
WOW!!! This post really, really (yes, two really’s!!) touched me way down deep. I feel this way too. It reminds me of how it was on my grandparents farm where I spent all my summers.
This is the best post I’ve read in a really, really (Yes 2!!!) l-o-n-g time.
Thanks.
Joy
http://joyerickson.wordpress.com/