A Familiar Day

Today is a beautiful day in Florida – sunny, 75 degrees. As I was driving to Costco this morning, I realized that I felt a very familiar feeling about this day. It felt comfortable, but like I should be doing something else, some place else. As I thought about it, I realized why that familiar feeling came from so deep within me – this day in Miami (because of the temperature, humidity, sunshine, and other weather factors) feels like a Seattle summer day to me. It made me feel exactly how I used to feel on a sunny, summer Seattle day. That’s why it felt so familiar to me. It’s the type of day I knew so well from my life that used to be.

Seattle Sunny Day

It feels like I should be puttering around our Washington home, kids coming and going. Just an ordinary day, doing ordinary things, hanging out with my family. Comfortable, happy, secure.

I can almost see the kids jumping on the trampoline in the back yard while I stand at the kitchen window or on the back deck. Maybe we’d be getting ready to head down to the park for a picnic or off to the beach to fly a kite. Maybe we’d be heading off to pick strawberries or blueberries at a local farm. Maybe we’d be picking wild blackberries so I could make freezer jam. Maybe Jason and Alina would be making chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen. Maybe…maybe…

Sometimes it surprises me how strongly my entire being still reacts with longing for the way things used to be – for the time when Jason was alive and all was well with the world. It makes me yearn for my home, for my life, for my boy – just an ordinary, sunny Seattle day, doing ordinary things with my family. It takes just the right combination of things to bring that familiar longing right back to the surface.

© 2011 Rebecca R. Carney

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “A Familiar Day

  1. I have many of those moments. We can’t go back. Funny how it’s not the big things but the everyday little things that are so powerful.
    God bless you!
    Patricia

  2. Rebecca,
    As I read your post today I have to tell you I am sorry. I am sorry because I think I may understand the feelings you are sharing here. My son, Matthew, died 6/16/96 and I catch myself just longing for the time when life was “normal”, when life was about the ordinary, everyday moments of everyday. Then I remember, life as I knew it is over and I still don’t know what is “normal”.
    May you be blessed as you are a blessing,
    Pat
    BarefootPreachr.org

  3. I love this post and your honesty. A therapist told me at one point that I would need to find a new normal. I am not there yet and I resist it. I don’t want a new normal. I want them all back. Its a walk to be sure, this grief path. You express the pain and the daily struggle beautifully. Peace to you! Jen

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s