Gone

Nothing ever seems to last.

When I was young, I used to love the snow. Every white flake that fell was the hope of a day off school, a day spent making snowmen and snow angels and sipping hot cocoa in front of the fake fireplace. When I was really young, I didn't even realize it was fake.

Now that I am grown, I dread the winter. I hate having to shovel the snow from my driveway, and I hate it even more when the snow melts and leaves pools of mud and sludge behind. Most of all, though, I had that now when I try to sit in front of the fake fireplace sipping hot cocoa, I'm reminded of how things used to be.

Nothing ever lasts. I know I was happy once, I just can't remember how everything got so messed up. When I was young, I had my parents and my brother and sister to keep me company. When I was in high school, I had boyfriends from time to time and close girlfriends that would chat with me for hours about nothing and everything. What happened to all those people?

My family lives a thousand miles away now, and my best friend from high school is dead. All my other friends are scattered. I haven't talked to them in years. Most people would just make new friends, but I've seen enough people come and go that I don't know what the point is. All that's left behind is a pool of sludge.

Everything was so beautiful to me one, well, many times. The first time I went to daycare, the first time I had a pet, the first time I kissed a boy, the first time I fell in love. The thing about the first time is that it can never happen again. All those moments were beautiful, like the first drop of snow falling from the heavens, but they can't last forever. The moments build up over time but then slowly, one by one, they melt away.

The problem with kids today is they don't even seem to savor the moments they have. They don't realize that when they turn into me one day, those moments will be all they have. I know the moments cause me pain, but I wouldn't even know what beauty was, or be able to occasionally hope to find it again, if I didn't have those moments.

Last week we had the first big snowfall of the year and a little boy, maybe 13 or 14 years old, came to my door asking if he could shovel my driveway. I just stared at him for a moment and then said, "Absolutely not. That's my job. You go and play."

I'm sure he thought I was being very rude, just continuing on my status as the grumpy old woman who lives down the road. He didn't understand that I was doing him a favor. Worrying and fretting about cleaning things up is the work of adults. Children need to enjoy life while they still can because they don't realize it, but all too soon it will be melted away. Gone.

I'm not really a depressed person. I had a nice house and I'm on the third pet dog of my lifetime. I take pleasure in the work I do, and I have nice acquaintances, and even go on a date from time to time, but nothing will ever be like things used to be. I've graduated from snowflakes to mud puddles. They aren't pretty, but they're what I've got and I learn to deal with them and make the most of things. Maybe someday those will be gone too, and what will take their place? Nothing? Is that really better than mud? I don't think so. Even mud can be sculpted into something, if not beautiful, then at least interesting. You just have to try hard enough, and do what you can before it's gone.