Photograph

So there is this song by Nickelback (Motto: “All Songs Sound the Same or Your Money Back!”) called “Photograph.”

It is a nostalgic song about finding a photo of his old friends and recalling the good times they had and missing them, while realizing it is time to say good-bye to that part of his life.

This song is kind of strange for me, because it brings back memories of friends that I had, but I don’t miss them since most of them were really not good people to be around and the things we did were really not things I would approve of now.

*How is it that you aren’t in jail?*

God looks after fools and drunkards.

Maybe it isn’t entirely true that I don’t miss them, maybe I just miss being young and free with no responsibilities, no issues that keep you awake at night praying for wisdom, trying to figure out what exactly you are supposed to do in THIS situation….it really sucks.

One thing though that I know I miss is my family. I live 650 miles from half my family…to be honest it is the half I actually like also. (Ha ha, just kidding, the truth is I can’t stand any of you)

I know some people might not believe what I’m about to say, some people might think that I am merely using hyperbole, but let me assure you that what I am about to say is absolute truth.

My family was and is better than yours.

We were, and still are, closer than you could ever believe. I attribute that fully to my wonderful parents who refused to let us degenerate into bickering siblings who whined about the others constantly and did our best to get the others in hot water with the authorities.

We actually liked each other. We spent so much time together that we became friends. I know that is rare. When we grew older we still enjoyed spending time together. We had weekly game nights until I moved away; I look forward to seeing them when I head back to Pennsylvania at Christmas and in the summer.

When I listen to the song I miss those days when we were all under the age of 16 playing Fox and Rabbits in the snow, Billion Buck Baby, making a see-saw while camping, pushing a log down the road and “dancing” to the beat it made.

I don’t want to say good-bye to that part of my life, I want to cling to it, but we are all older with kids and cats, jobs and bills, houses and cars, and of course, we are missing the ring leader of it all, the person who taught us how to play Fox and Rabbits, who allowed us to have water fights in the house…when our father was gone for the evening, and the one who encouraged our corn on the cob sword fights….again when our father wasn’t there :)

When I think about this world, one of the cruelest parts to me is that it forces people to move so far apart sometimes.

Last Saturday Sister #3 and I were walking down the front stairs to a house, front steps that had always seemed a little wrong to me for some reason, when she piped up, “These stairs remind me of the stairs on Smithson.”

That was it, they were the same faded red paint on concrete, but they were too big. I had gone up and down those stairs so many times, that these stairs which reminded me of those stairs felt wrong since they were slightly off.

I miss living in that house, I miss riding the sofa cushion down the stairs, turning the attic into a haunted house, sitting on the front porch in the summer listening to my mother read the Prydain Cycle to us.

I guess I just miss being a kid.