{"id":2813,"date":"2014-12-05T22:18:44","date_gmt":"2014-12-06T04:18:44","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/askmrsmom.com\/?p=2813"},"modified":"2014-12-06T08:52:40","modified_gmt":"2014-12-06T14:52:40","slug":"a-sense-of-longing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/askmrsmom.com\/?p=2813","title":{"rendered":"A sense of longing…"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"dad\"<\/a>I think many of us enter the holidays with a sense of where we are and where we have been. \u00a0How in the blink of an eye we are unpacking ornaments it seems like yesterday we wrapped carefully in tissue and lugged to the attic or tucked in the back corner of a closet. \u00a0For me, the holidays this year have brought back a rush of holidays past, or time passed or moments and people passed that I should have embraced and held closer when I had them.<\/p>\n

But that is the irony of life. \u00a0When we are living some of the best, most poignant times in our lives, we are young and busy and distracted and unaware that these are the moments that living is all about.<\/p>\n

The ordinary ones.<\/p>\n

For me, Thornton Wilder’s Our Town <\/em>best\u00a0embodies these emotions. This fact. \u00a0When young Emily is in the “here-after” way too soon, she turns to the world she has left and exclaims:<\/p>\n

\u201cLet’s really look at one another!…It goes so fast. We don’t have time to look at one another. I didn’t realize. So all that was going on and we never noticed… Wait! One more look. Good-bye world…Mama and Papa. Good-bye to clocks ticking…And new ironed dresses and hot baths….and sleeping and waking up…Oh, earth, you are too wonderful for anybody to realize you.\u00a0Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it–every,every minute?”<\/p>\n

And when given the chance to relive one moment, her “dead soul” mother-in-law wisely advises,\u00a0\u201cChoose the least important day in your life. It will be important enough.\u201d<\/p>\n

In the same vein, I have been thinking a lot about my father lately. He died over ten years ago and for awhile I felt him everywhere. Then slowly in my day-to-day he faded, like an old\u00a0Polaroid\u00a0that seems to yellow and disappear as magically at it\u00a0came into focus out of the camera. My thoughts drift back to him on and off. I will see a man who looks like him in a mall. Or I can swear I hear his voice in a grocery line behind me. But my most recent thoughts about my dad started with my search for a picture I have of him, I say have and I still believe I do but cannot find it, carving a Thanksgiving turkey. The photograph is a\u00a0silhouette\u00a0of his face. He is wearing one of his\u00a0favorite\u00a0crew neck sweaters, but the focus of the shot is simply his\u00a0hands\u00a0and the turkey. And every Thanksgiving I have brought it out and stuck it on the microwave or the\u00a0cork board\u00a0behind my wall telephone. ( I know–totally dinosaur, but I have one.)<\/p>\n

I guess I tack it up to feel like he is here. \u00a0And to look at those hands and feel safe.<\/p>\n

My father was our family’s hub and we were the spokes\u00a0spinning\u00a0off the solid center he provided. Dad’s world was\u00a0black and white, safe and constant. A world where there were boundaries that made sense and lines were clearly drawn. \u00a0Even when mine became blurred.<\/p>\n

As \u00a0a little\u00a0girl when I wanted to be near my dad, I would most often find him in the basement, seated in his large green leather-like chair. It was the sort that had a stick shift on the side to extend the front panel\u00a0into\u00a0a foot rest.\u00a0\u00a0A fifties version of a\u00a0La-Z-Boy. There he would sit, watching the\u00a0evening\u00a0news, a thin veil of smoke\u00a0around\u00a0him,\u00a0his\u00a0pipe in hand.<\/p>\n

I would climb onto his lap, his fine carpenter’s hands slowly opening to help me settle in. As I lay my head on his shoulder, I\u00a0didn’t\u00a0care\u00a0what\u00a0was on the TV screen. \u00a0I\u00a0just\u00a0wanted to be near him.<\/p>\n

My\u00a0father\u00a0was always warm. \u00a0A sweater was more than\u00a0enough\u00a0for him in most weather. I remember that warmth\u00a0and\u00a0the smell of his pipe tobacco as we sat, he engrossed in the local weather and I content to sit on his quiet throne. There was a rhythm to his breathing and a soft tapping sound his lips made on the pipe stem as they slowly opened and closed, allowing bits of smoke to excape\u00a0with\u00a0each breath. If I nestled in a little\u00a0closer, I\u00a0could\u00a0smell the faint traces of his Old Spice aftershave still present from his early morning shower.<\/p>\n

Today when I smell pipe smoke or even a cigar, rare as those are these days, I am immediately transplanted back to my father’s lap and the security it represented. \u00a0His quiet strength spoke more to me than words ever could.<\/p>\n

So as I enter this holiday rush-rush, must have and be there and do that, \u00a0I am going to try to just be here. This moment. With the people I can hold and hug and love and treasure.<\/p>\n

And I will think of my father’s lap. And maybe, for a person or two, be a lap myself.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I think many of us enter the holidays with a sense of where we are and where we have been. \u00a0How in the blink of an eye we are unpacking ornaments it seems like yesterday we wrapped carefully in tissue and lugged to the attic or tucked in the back corner of a closet. \u00a0For …<\/p>\n

>>Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2813","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\nA sense of longing... - askmsmom.com<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/askmrsmom.com\/?p=2813\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"A sense of longing... - askmsmom.com\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"I think many of us enter the holidays with a sense of where we are and where we have been. \u00a0How in the blink of an eye we are unpacking ornaments it seems like yesterday we wrapped carefully in tissue and lugged to the attic or tucked in the back corner of a closet. \u00a0For ...>>Read more\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/askmrsmom.com\/?p=2813\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"askmsmom.com\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2014-12-06T04:18:44+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2014-12-06T14:52:40+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/askmrsmom.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/dad-225x300.jpg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Nan\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Nan\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"4 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\\\/\\\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/askmrsmom.com\\\/?p=2813#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/askmrsmom.com\\\/?p=2813\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"Nan\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/askmrsmom.com\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/person\\\/5031095d2f9410eb51dc2762789e1945\"},\"headline\":\"A sense of longing…\",\"datePublished\":\"2014-12-06T04:18:44+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2014-12-06T14:52:40+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/askmrsmom.com\\\/?p=2813\"},\"wordCount\":858,\"commentCount\":0,\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/askmrsmom.com\\\/?p=2813#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/askmrsmom.com\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2014\\\/12\\\/dad-225x300.jpg\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"CommentAction\",\"name\":\"Comment\",\"target\":[\"https:\\\/\\\/askmrsmom.com\\\/?p=2813#respond\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/askmrsmom.com\\\/?p=2813\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/askmrsmom.com\\\/?p=2813\",\"name\":\"A sense of longing... - 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