"Is it time to go home yet? I keep clicking these damn shoes, but nothing happens." ~Robin Hecht
So I got the ruby slippers from the witch. Now, when do I get to be eight-years-old again and completely carefree?
When can I play outside once more and not worry about what released child abuser has moved into the neighborhood?
When will I go on an adventure with a picnic lunch packed, riding my bicycle with a friend at my side, and treasures to be discovered?
And when do I get to feel the thrill of the wind almost lifting me from my feet while I run with it, trying to fly?
How long before I am no longer aware of the ugliness that resides in people and the world?
At the age of eight, everyone I knew was a friend or a nice person. The milkman gave me rides down the street on his milk truck. He could not do that now, could he? He would be held liable should any child get hurt.
Will it be soon that I find myself once again skipping home from school with a newly crafted art project or a good report card to proudly show my parents, knowing the smiles I will see on their faces and hearing their words of praise and encouragement?
Is it far off before Daddy can once again catch me in his arms in the swimming pool and toss me into the air to come splashing back down into the water...then giggle myself silly when the lifeguard blows his whistle and warns Daddy not to do that anymore?
::clicking and clicking and clicking my heels together just waiting for a return to that magical time when all that truly mattered was my mother, father, and sisters::
When will I stay forever eight? Never. Those times, those innocent Camelot times, are over. They have become a series of beloved memories forever nestled in my gray matter. And I am grateful I have them.
But, there is nothing wrong with losing myself in those glorious times occasionally, as long as I keep on top of the new memories I have made in the years since then and continue to make with a cherished family of my own and dear friends.
As for these red shoes? I think I will keep them. I have a thing for shoes. Plus, I can never have too many pairs of red ones.
5 comments:
You do know I adore your writing and your talents my friend...but way you just mentioned shoes sent a chill down my spine! :::shuddering hard:::
Your entries just amaze me...this brings me back to my own childhood and I can relate to these things too...things were so carefree back then...it was safe walking to and from school each day...safe to play in the park without our parents there...taking rides from the ice cream man...those days no longer exist.
I am always so pleased when I get an alert that says you posted. I love the way you express yourself. You're such an awesome writer.
Hugs, love & prayers too
Barb- http://journals.aol.com/barbpinion/HEYLETSTALK
http://journals.aol.com/barbpinion/HOPEFORTODAY
sigh...i still click my heels together and wish to be taken home....there really is no place like home...
We do ourselves and all in our lives a tremendous disservice if we ever let the exuberance and innocence of childhood and childlike wonder escape from our heart. While we must - sometimes - look at the world through the learning and wisdom the years have taught, its still always best to balance the weariness that seeks to intrude with the clarity and colors of the days of youth. As long as the heart is young, we will never truly grow old. May you be forever eight years old Nikki.
Rob
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