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Saturday, July 16, 2011

saturdayland




Now-days, it hardly feels like Saturday or summer or any certain time of day. It's been melting together. The essence of days got lost. Today was a Saturday. I remember all about these days. Growing up they had recognized feel to them, each one every week. Saturday morning cartoons, cocoa and toast, wearing your soccer jersey all day long, football games, the sound of lawn mowers, tostinos pizza, ringing doorbells, bike rides to the store, scooters with friends, renting videos, chocolate milk, late night showers, and the dreaded wear of curlers to bed in an over sized t-shirt. It all became so distinct for just being a day of the week. It was a holiday. Once when I stayed at my grandma's house on a Friday night, I woke on Saturday morning heartbroken. I wasn't at my house, radio on, running in and out side, sledding down the stairs, throwing on shorts for friends. Instead I was stuck in an old person's world, with nothing to wake up to but silence. Fog of boring that muffled my world and made my idea of a Saturday distant, like I couldn't hardly tell that it was. In the quiet world of an old person every thing seems this way. All the wonder goes unnannounced. Nothing is felt but heavy staleness in the air, the weight of nothing and quiet so deep and never penetrated, it solidifies, making it awfully hard to get your heart to pound. I will never forget that Saturday morning at my Grandma's house. It was an experience of genuine sadness and regret. Because of it I know that not just people can hurt your feelings. Sometimes I feel like I did that morning, trapped inside my grandma's home. The weight of my heart is so big at times I have to pray for help to carry my feelings to the surface. They take root on my very core and settle there, as if to stay, and grow, secretly take over everything. I can't say how hard it is, or peel off a bandage to show a scary wound. I feel muted enough to not express how I hate it so, because what is it anyway? Today I awoke and used the gift of cereal to get reacquainted with day. I wandered around my old person home, gathered some papers, wiped a few counters. I then went back to my room and laid down in my bed. The sun shone through the window and I heard life and work all around me outside. I saw the way my blanket wrapped around my legs. I felt my head in my hand. My pajamas were softer than I remember. The brightness in the room was beaming so handsome, that it broke a crack in that stale air I breathe. Through that crack warmth and lightness peeked through, and when I looked I think I beheld a glimpse of Saturday, and it opened wide enough for me to fall into, at least for a while.

1 comment:

  1. I so love your writing! Its like Poetry.!! I know all those feeling you were describing and they have disappeared, life today is so different.:(

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