Saturday, September 23, 2006

Wistful Longing of a Saturday Morning

I was lying in bed, very relaxed in that state where you could almost fall asleep, but you don't... and many things begin to rush through my head-like a brainstorming session-and the following things occurred to me as I was letting my mind flow freely:

[Don't know where this one came from-it's not a memory, but I imagined it as if it were some memory that I experienced, I imagined that maybe it was one of those 'past life things']
An old wooden Staircase (white railing, and specifically the bottom step) the wood-flooring type (remembering the feeling beneath my bare feet of the wood and the texture and feel of the staircase). Although I kept coming back to this each time I got more relaxed, for some odd reason, my mind wandered around and I closed my eyes and envisioned the following things from the past...

-Smelling or tasting Turnips (raw before mom cooked them)
-Watermelon's fresh juicy taste as you bite into some that has been 'chilling' over the air conditioner vent in the floor in the middle of July... and just the pure 'electric' feeling of youth.

The feeling and scent of the house when my Mom would open up all the windows and let the breeze blow through the house as she 'spring cleaned' (the way it felt when it brushed my skin and moved my hair). Fresh scented, warm spring-summer air, listening to the trees rustling on a breezy day, or alternatively the smell of that classic-type Lysol, the kind that gags you-that potent-supposed-to-kill-all-germs type that they use in the hospital... That she would Mop with in the early morning.

The smell of my Mother's "Windsong" perfume, especially as she would get ready to go to church on a Sunday morning, and I would either be late getting ready or elect not to go.

Waking up on a Saturday morning after sleeping late having been out way past a decent hour-- and hearing my father already outside cutting grass, the sound of his riding lawn mower running or the incessant buzz of the weed eater...

Or the banter we'd share over the breakfast table just upon waking up in the morning, being a grouchy non-morning girl, waking up to Mom's coffee pot and biscuits and Dad's gravy.

Lying out in the middle of a pasture on a sun-drenched day, just to feel close to the earth beneath me, with my dark sunglasses on, looking up and watching the huge cotton-candy clouds rolling over an azure-blue sky... watching the sky just rotate around us and Time literally flying... and then dusk as the sky would be drenched in red, purple and blue as the first star of evening greeted me with the gift of a gorgeous sunset.

The House seemed to be filled with life and energy and good feeling, and promise of a new day... and I worry so much now about it all slipping away... as the House seems to be so lonely and on the decline, a bit darker than it was then, a little weary and sad... filled more now with only the echos of all the laughter and smiles, and sometimes tears that have been spilled there, wondering where all of its children have gone.

6 comments:

Nana said...

One of my memories was along time before you were born, Daddy would bring home Howard's Donuts for Saturday morning breakfast. He would have been coming in from a trip to New Orleans or maybe St Louis. I remember the box of donuts sitting on the table. Debbie, Jeanne and I thought we had died and gone to heaven. Love Vickie

Aunt Jackie said...

That's a nice one too... did mine make you sad?

Nana said...

Yes it did..are you happy now?

laughtokeepfromcrying said...

Jackie,

Really liked this one, reminded me of a few mornings lying in bed listening, and smelling and wondering where life would take me but so enjoying the moment and realizing now some 40 years later I was making a soul memory, a blood memory if you will. Maybe I was feeling something universal to us all when we are in the right place at the right time. Sure the house seems older, darker, quieter that is what time does to the material plane. A metaphor for this is your deep forest, where things come and grow and decay and grow again. Butjust like those memories of open windows, coffee, donuts, family banter.....all we need to do is open a window, listen to a lawnmower, share some family banter, delight in donuts for this time too is precious, just as precious as all those days gone by.

Aunt Jackie said...

Agreed... that is so true. Studies have shown that your brain doesn't know the difference between a memory, or something you're thinking on than the real thing. If you think hard about something, your brain won't know the difference... We can go any place or to any time we want, and feel that way again. Who says time travel isn't possible? [plus i'm big into quantum physics anyway]

Kris said...

I remember begging to spend the night and really wanting to stay up to watch Saturday Night videos. I could never hang with Aunt Jackie. much to her dismay. I really tried!