Déjà vu

I had a déjà vu moment yesterday morning. November is typically a comfortably warm month here in northeast Florida, but a cold front in the region had the temperatures dipping into the upper 40’s overnight. (Perfect for sleeping, if you ask me, though Thom was happier after I put the down comforter on the bed. But I digress.)

Thom had gone off to work pretty early, so when I got up, the house was quiet. Looking out the French doors, I saw the trees moving in the breeze. Stepping out into the lanai, the sunshine, the smell, the unfamiliar crisp, cool temperature and the sound of the rustling trees suddenly hurled me back through time, first to my “Cabbage” (my CABin in the woods and cottAGE on the lake) where fall is the most beautiful time of the year, and then back even further to when my kids were small and the chilly autumn air meant leaf raking, playing in the piles, and noisy laughter.  Memories of colder seasons; beautiful backyard snow drifts, ice rinks and neighborhood kids, feet stomping snow off boots, rosy cheeks and a fire in the fireplace…it all came rushing back in a moment that simultaneously brought grateful tears to my eyes and a nostalgic smile to my face.

I miss those time. I miss my small children’s laughter and raucousness, though I would never have believed it at the time. Because when you’re a young mom and in the midst of it all, it can often seem overwhelming, never-ending to the point of just wanting that Calgon moment to take you away from it all.

But it does end. Life moves on. And those small children become bigger children, and then they move on to become adults with their own lives and their own small children. Do I want to do it again? No, way. There is a time to every season.

But it all began with a déjà vu moment when I opened the doors to the lanai and let some beautiful memories in.