Bonnie Tharp Books
Right about now I’d say I have an good feel for “high emotions.” You know when your feelings are right on the outside of your skin. Every little bump of any kind you feel deeply, and I’m not just talking about the physical ones. There are bumps in the road every day, at work, at home, anywhere. Someone or something will cross your path and make you feel anger, frustration, fear, joy, silly, happy, compassionate, etc.
Our son got a promotion and has relocated to Boston. (That’s about three days by car, two if you mainline caffeine and tape your eyelids open.) He’s been there about 3 weeks and I miss him. I didn’t see him all the time when he was in town, but I knew he was close. He and I can talk about anything, enjoy brainstorming creative ideas, remembering when he was little, listening to music, and discussing the latest techno gadgets. He’s a lot of fun to be with.
His family will follow in a couple of weeks. I’ll miss my daughter-in-law and her saucy sense of humor, and our youngest grandson, a lot. My grandson and I are buds, movie going partners, bakers of awesome candy cane cookies, card players, walking partners, and lovers of dogs and good stories. I’ve been so lucky to have had him close for ten years.
Our eldest grandson will be around a while, (thank God) going to college and hanging out with us while he works and saves up for school.
While I know that this is a good career move for my son, the little guy is going to be in a good school, and they’ll be near the “big city”, a life style they prefer; we’ll have a great time visiting (Boston rocks) and all that… I still feel sad. A big part of my life is changing, too. (Damn, no more Pixar movies.)
My husband and I were watching television the other night and a baby was on the commercial. He said, “it’s been a long time since we’ve had a baby in the family.” He’s right. The youngest great niece is three and her brother will be six very soon. They grow up so fast. The tack board and blotter on my desk are covered with pictures of my son and his family over the past ten years. I love looking at those photos and remembering. Do they make me cry? Sometimes.
I’d say it’s time to tap into those emotions and write, wouldn’t you? And I can’t forget to “enjoy the journey”, no matter where it takes us.
Write on.