Awkwardly this afternoon, my neighbor’s eyes
met mine on her way out of the elevator, and then darted down as she softly
said “hello.” Her little girl, unaware of the uncomfortable history the two of
us grown-ups share, came to a full stop directly in front of me and presented
her biggest, brightest smile, one little tooth slightly askew, clearly either
on its way in or on its way out. Brightened by the genuine enthusiastic smile
of the little girl, I made eye contact again with her mother and sincerely
asked “how are you?” and she strengthened by my attempt at being friendly,
responded in kind. Her face transformed for moment into a smile as well. It was
clear that at one point, before life had made her more guarded, that she had
the same full of life smile as the little girl she led out the front door of
our shared apartment building.
Isn’t it odd how sometimes the briefest
encounter with someone will stay with you the rest of the day? It was strange,
to suddenly realize how rare it is for me these days to see the sweet sincere
smile of a little girl. It made me happy and sad all at the same time. For so
many years, my world was chock full of small children. Years stretched on
endlessly into the future as I went from diapers to kindergarten to summer camp
to senior prom over and over with each child in turn. When you are in those
years they are so all-consuming it is hard to picture a time when your life
will be any different.
As happy as I am most days with my new-found
freedom, I never realized that it would be the little things about being a mom
that I would miss the most. A picture my nephew posts online of his son in
full-blown baby belly laughter brings up old memories of my own son, laughing
heartily at the same age, memories that pull unexpectedly at my heart! A little
blond girl, all dressed up right down to her shiny black shoes, holds her
Daddy’s hand on their way out of a Sunday morning service and my mind flashes
back to my own little girls and their days of fancy dresses, hair ribbons and
holding hands to cross the street. These are treasured memories. Today,
however, for me the word “children” conjures up images of twenty-somethings,
grown up children with lives of their own. These lives often contain challenges
and heart aches I can no longer fix like I used to with a good tickle or a bowl
of ice cream with chocolate sprinkles!
One of my favorite quotes is “No matter what
happens, always keep your childhood innocence. It's the most important thing.”
(Federico Fellini). It is not, unfortunately, that childhood is without
heartache. Yet children, not yet crushed by life’s disappointments and still
unburdened by adult expectations, are able to hang onto the hope and enthusiasm
that we so often lose as we grow up. Children forgive easier, forget easier,
move on from disappointment so much more easily than those of us who are
supposedly older and wiser. Children don’t hide who they really are. If they
say they love you, you can believe it! Children do not feel awkward when they
run into someone who used to like the same stupid boy they did. They just laugh
about it and run off to play together on the swings! Children live in the
moment. They don’t worry about things they can do nothing about. Ten minutes
ago there might have been a bike mishap and a badly skinned knee, but now all
washed up and bandaged, there is ice cream with sprinkles and life is good
again.
I understand now, why older people always
brighten when small children come into a room. They have so much in common both
the very old and the very young, unburdened by rushing through each minute of
life to some elusive dream of “success.” They each know how to experience joy
in little things, with no strings attached. Both, free of the need to adhere to
social expectations that often bind the rest of us, know that taking just a
moment to stop and smile at a neighbor might brighten both of their days in a
way that neither expected. I need to pay more attention when I spend time with
friends and family who still have small children. There are clearly lessons I
still need to learn from them.
When you are a kid, yesterday and tomorrow are
far away, but right now, something good is going on and you just know if you
aren't careful you'll miss it. I know what I need more of in my grown up empty
nest life. I need to walk to the park and spend some time on the swings with
nothing else to think about except how high I can go before I jump off. I need
to smile more at my neighbors; genuine, unguarded smiles. I need to find more
reasons for a good full-blown belly laugh! And when all else fails, there’s
always ice cream, with sprinkles!
This piece was first published on the Bangor Daily News, Postcards from a Work in Progress, April 29, 2012.
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