I’m up early on a Saturday beasting through my chore list. And because it’s still early, I’d thought I’d be considerate enough not to blast my cleaning playlist. But because of my consideration, my mind is a bit busier than usual. I’ve been trying to process what my feelings mean as of late. For some reason, I’ve been longing to go back to points in my life even remotely close to a time where life was normal. When I realized it was October, I thought about this post that I wrote last year and just how different things were. How we were out and about on soccer fields, football fields cheering and tailgating, and just being out in each other’s company. That point where the Fall foliage is front and center, the leaves turn brown, and people are all out and about enjoying cool Louisiana weather.
It wasn’t until I read Amanda’s post “Mood” where I realized the why behind what I was feeling. There are days where I’m just fine and others where I miss my old life. I’ve realized that I’ve been dealing with this in interesting ways. Sometimes that looks like reading a book or re-watching a show/series that I’ve already watched a thousand times. Or remembering the tumultuous yet peaceful 1.5-hour commute to and from work with my previous employer. All of the games attended on sports fields supporting my children. All the trips taken and the new places I experienced with my loved ones. Anything that reminds me of a particular time in my life where I felt something.. something good.
This year continues to serve blows to the jugular whether it’s the constant reminder of an unjust system black people fund through their own taxes.. or the constant news cycle of coronavirus and the election. It’s a lot. But even in the hardest times, I’m reminding myself to extend myself just a little extra grace. That despite all that’s going on, I still live a beautiful life and to continue to live that beautiful life. I’m dusting off my camera this weekend just to capture things that are beautiful to me. Beautiful to this life. Even if that means my daughter asking me to take her shopping for the millionth time and me obliging while complaining. Because who knows when I’ll need more of those memories to create the nostalgia I need to wrap myself in.