Do you ever feel nostalgic for the most random times and places?
Sometimes I get nostalgic for things that may even have been rocky or stressful or even recent, or none of the above, or all of the above, but whatever it was and however it went, there was something so small or so big about that day that retains an innocence I may not currently feel. Sometimes it’s obvious why I feel nostalgic, and sometimes not at all. Our trip to Hancock Shaker Village at the beginning of this month was a mix of stressful and serene. A perfect mix, if you will. It had its struggles, and its victories.
It was the day after Cassidy’s shoulder injury, after I had met him at the ER with a very cranky Des and sent Scarlet off with a dear friend when I found a missed call from a traffic cop on my phone. That’s right. I had a voicemail to call a traffic cop who had helped my husband after he had fallen in the street, and who then kindly reassured me that Cassidy was on his way to his own phone to call me. Then we met at the same hospital in which both babies were born. The same hospital where I panicked and took a swollen-handed Scarlet to after the minivan incident. The same hospital to take Des away in an incubator-for-ambulance type contraption. This time I had to watch the nurse cut off Cassidy’s beloved The Who shirt because it would hurt too much to get it over his arms and his head.
In that first grim week or two after, I knew I had a lot of kid time on my hands. I wanted to give Cassidy space and time to rest.
So we visited the glorious Hancock Shaker Village on the most beautiful spring day after the injury. The road trip was about an hour and as I said on Facebook, driving through the Berkshires is barely driving. It’s “Pleasanting.” My eyes were glued to rainbow picket fences and mossy, moosey woods and tag sales and runners and lakes and tall trees and bright sun. I may as well have been in deep Maine at some points. The weather was cool but sunny so it felt totally warm and you totally get ice cream on days like that and you wear a t-shirt, even though the chill comes fast after the sun has set. It’s hopeful. Days like those. Before summer sets in with its hair-curling humidity and uncomfortable heat. It’s when you pore over your weather app to see at what exact hours you will get to be under direct sunlight. Ever read in the sun in August? I don’t. Anyway, I digress. It was hopeful and unknown. What would we find?
I’m a sucker for light in dark places.
I’m also a big sucker for baby animals. Baby anything, but it all originated with animals for me.
Now this is a pig pile.
And these cute chicks. Small enough to be adorable but large enough to be savvy and to run from the not-long-enough arm of the employee who was trying to reach into the incubator to grab one for Scarlet to hold.
Insert Aflac joke here?
And hey, that’s me. In the reflection of some awesome car.
Things were rough for awhile after that day, for Cassidy. And of course that made it rough for us to see him in pain. He’s much better now. Probably not perfect, but much better. I’m not nostalgic for his pain, and I don’t want anyone to think that. AT ALL. I’m nostalgic for this breezy, silent day in which I could give the kids a perfect day while giving Cassidy some rest. And I know perfect is an overused word, but I mean it here. It was perfect. The nagging worries in the back of my mind were temporarily swept away.
Peace in the unknown – of what a day and a place would bring.