The Driveway

I am sitting here, in a metal chair in my front yard, looking out at the sun setting beyond the mountain, breathing in the late summer air, and hearing the faint melodies of oldies music from a house down the road. Nothing special going on, just feeling the life around me... hearing crickets welcoming another evening, feeling the breeze blow through my hair. I suddenly feel very nostalgic.

This brings back memories. Good ones. And reminds me of a lesson I learned.

I like to keep busy, keep moving, keep creating. I have always been this way, and probably will always be. My mind and my hands CRAVE to do-do-do. If I sit still for too long, I get antsy, and that tends to not be a good thing (I then start over-analyzing things and thinking too much.) Maybe some of you are this way, too. But I have learned that sometimes you just need to sit and chill. Not do. Not create. Not get so wrapped up into things that the little moments slide right by. Cause then, before you know it, they are gone, and you can't get them back.

An example of this, which was brought to mind by my sitting outside in my front yard, has to do with three years ago. Well, even before that. Before my father in law passed. We would go over usually once a week, have dinner with my in-laws and then go sit in their driveway and hang out, listening to oldies, and just talking. Sounds boring. And to me, at the time, it was. I would sit there and want so badly to leave, go home, get to work on something. Or to hop in the car and go somewhere. Do SOMETHING. Why on earth would I want to spend my Saturday nights sitting in a folding chair in a driveway at my in-laws?

Now let me quickly explain the driveway part- my father in law was a collector and antique-car restorer. His favorite place, in the last couple years while he was sick, to be was sitting in front of the garage by his latest project. So yes, we would have a family (and often friends of the family) pow wow in the driveway in front of the garage, per his choice. Give or take pizza. Usually with a fire in a pit. Sometimes with our dog, aka the family mascot.

So...yeah. At the time, I found myself disliking sitting there each week, doing absolutely nothing. But as I now sit in my own front yard, watching the same sun set, I get that feeling like I miss that. I miss sitting there with everyone, talking, joking, and listening to him and my husband reminisce. I miss talking about the songs that came on the radio and what they reminded him of (usually racing some local "punk in a souped-up hotrod his daddy bought him" down Middle St or the Berlin Turnpike, or hanging at McDonalds). The time that we sat there, while I was itching to go, were good times I chose not to fully enjoy. I didn't realize that simple things like hanging out in a driveway by a '67 Chevelle and '56 Nomad or a '55 Chevy Pickup would leave me eventually wanting that time back from history so bad I could taste it.

Since I can't go back in time and steal those moments back, I can remember to enjoy simple times now. This is one reason I sit outside more often than ever before (is it ironic that my favorite time to do so is during the evening while the sun is setting, which is when we used to go over there and hang out?). This is the reason I love my firepit outside... just to sit and enjoy a fire now and then, and relax. Let my mind, my hands, take a break.

Even though it took a little while to break myself from the go go go habit, I am glad I did. Life seems a little fuller now. I just wish I could have enjoyed it this much back then.

OK. Enough babbling. Closing the laptop. The crickets and I have a little more of a sunset to enjoy.