I woke up this morning at 0600, my normal time for the start of a workday and noted how dark it still was outside. There is nothing alarming about this, just another sign that time is moving along despite our wishes that Summer go on forever. I find myself remembering when I was a kid and how much I enjoyed every single summer day, or so it seemed at the time. I wonder how I will feel when Autumn arrives, and Summer will be a memory once again.
There is nothing magical about the passage of time, but our memories make it seem so. There are times when I can almost feel the sun on my skin as I remember summer days as a kid. I can vividly recall details and find myself reminded of particular days at random. I can recall hitting a baseball, diving off the high board, running through the grass, and looking around and feeling the wonder of existence when I was young. I remember thinking to myself, wondering what my life would be like when I was an adult.
I suppose that those memories are my childhood calling out to me, reminding me that I still have a sense of wonder about the world around me, no matter how cynical I have become as I have gotten older. I am wiser now, but not happier. Responsibilities take up most of my time, and I have to work even more to find the time to do what I want to do. The loss of innocence is the price we pay for growing up. We lose a part of ourselves and regret it. We force the child into hiding, to be replaced by the adult. The child tries to get out at times when our memories are triggered, but the sad part is that we condition ourselves to ignore these cries for help and understanding because we are supposed to be “mature.” This Monday, I wish that I was a child again, if only for a little while.