I'm not sure that melancholy is the right word but I can't seem to come up with a better one. I guess you could say I have been melancholy if it's based on being teary and emotional. Not really sad but pensive ... yes pensive, that's it! Every year around this time I get into this same emotional state. There are several reasons I have been able to identify. First of all, September 29th will be our 36th wedding anniversary. I am overwhelmed each and every year by the depth and breath of the love that wraps itself around me and fills me with a sense of wonder at it's endurance and strength. More about that around our anniversary date. Second, in the fall of 1976 I was suffering from a severe optic neuritis and was completely blind in my left eye. I also wanted desperately to become pregnant and could not. I remember clearly the day that I climbed the small pine covered hill behind our house and sat on the pine straw and asked God to do what I could not do for myself.
I remember the feeling of complete peace that came over me and I knew everything would be OK. My eyesight began to clear and by late fall I was pregnant with my wonderful daughter. Third, this is the time of year that someone very dear to me died. I still miss her terribly. So I guess in essence there is a compilation of so many snap shots and snippets from the tapestry of my life that flood my head and my heart this time every year. I may be teary when I stop to remember, but they are tears of both happiness and sadness. Happy for all the moments of joy and love I have been blessed with and sadness for the losses and the moments that are forever gone. I was listening to a Carpenter's CD as I drove along the other day and I knew I should skip "We've Only Just Begun" but I just couldn't do it. That was our song , sung at our wedding. My eyes welled with tears and suddenly it was 1973 again. This past weekend Tony and I were listening to the same CD and he asked if "We've Only Just Begun" was on it and I said yes but we can't listen to it until our anniversary. He said we could listen to it now and then...little did he know that I struggled to hold back tears as it played. I guess maybe I am just an old softie but I'd rather be a Melancholy Baby than nobody's baby at all.
I remember the feeling of complete peace that came over me and I knew everything would be OK. My eyesight began to clear and by late fall I was pregnant with my wonderful daughter. Third, this is the time of year that someone very dear to me died. I still miss her terribly. So I guess in essence there is a compilation of so many snap shots and snippets from the tapestry of my life that flood my head and my heart this time every year. I may be teary when I stop to remember, but they are tears of both happiness and sadness. Happy for all the moments of joy and love I have been blessed with and sadness for the losses and the moments that are forever gone. I was listening to a Carpenter's CD as I drove along the other day and I knew I should skip "We've Only Just Begun" but I just couldn't do it. That was our song , sung at our wedding. My eyes welled with tears and suddenly it was 1973 again. This past weekend Tony and I were listening to the same CD and he asked if "We've Only Just Begun" was on it and I said yes but we can't listen to it until our anniversary. He said we could listen to it now and then...little did he know that I struggled to hold back tears as it played. I guess maybe I am just an old softie but I'd rather be a Melancholy Baby than nobody's baby at all.
