This morning was my first day back to work since August 31 in observation of the Labor Day holiday.
As I settled into my little gray cubicle and cringed at the fact that I had forgotten to wash out my hot pink coffee mug in my haste to break free for the long weekend on Friday, I glanced at my calendar and realized it was time to flip up the page and put August to rest. In doing so, I stopped to take one long last look at the beautiful pink and white flowers with the greenish-yellow centers that adorned the page above the numbered days of the newly ended August. Each month in the calendar is accompanied by a colorful flower and short, swirly-written phrase.
As I reflected over how quickly the last month had passed and how it seemed like I had just flipped the page revealing a new August, I noticed its phrase: …a moment to daydream.
I decided to take the advice of the swirly-written August note before laying it to rest.
In connection with how quickly August had passed and time in general, I began to daydream about a particular time period in my childhood that I had actually forgotten all about. I’ve found myself in a nostalgic mood many times before, remembering simpler times passed, usually the same few that were especially memorable or meaningful. But today, my mind drifted to a time I don’t recall revisiting before.
For just a few moments, I sat at my desk looking at August, but seeing myself as an eight year old little girl dragging my mom around Frank’s Video begging her to rent me two Pippi Longstocking tapes (VHS of course–it was 1989). My six year old sister was attempting to drag our mom in the opposite direction to whatever stupid baby videos she wanted. Of course, in the end my mom allowed me one Pippi video and my sister one stupid baby video.
Once we were home in our cozy little two bedroom house with the green shutters, we’d fix Jiffy Pop on the stove, make super sweet Kool-Aid, pile on top of my mom on the big brown and orange flowered couch and watch the videos until my sister fell asleep.
Back at my desk 23 years later, I smiled, flipped away from August, marveled at the deep purple flowers of September, and looked at its swirly-written phrase: …a learning to share. Hmmm…