Children from the nursery school downstairs serenaded me as I worked this morning. My own children went to this nursery school. I used to love leaning out my window, watching them play. My son was always surrounded by friends, two in particular to whom he remained unshakably loyal, and they were the same toward him. We saw early on his great capacity for friendship and the fidelity he inspired in his friends. One boy pushed him one day and his best friend, a Japanese-American boy named Eugene whom he used to call "Newjean," became a whirling dervish, arms windmilling in his defense. My son, who was a pacifist, pulled Eugene off the boy and they walked away from him, Klignon style. I saw all this from my upstairs window. Yes, I have been overly interested in my children's life away from me since the beginning.
My daughter, unlike my son, was usually alone on the playground. My heart hitched in my chest as I watched her lying on the slide by herself as the other children swirled by. And then I realized my girl was gazing up at the sky, daydreaming. Or she was twirling round and round in her own little world, arms outstretched, eyes closed and face to the sun, coat tail flying. My son had many friends. In time, she had one, a girl as quiet and dreamy as she was. They would play next to each other, not talking but seeming to understand each other perfectly.
I remembered all this as I leaned out my window this morning, listening to the children sing. It didn't seem as if almost twenty years had passed since my own two were in that circle.
Such sweet memories. My office complex backs up to the playground of the elementary school that my children attended; I can often hear children playing as I walk into the building. Always brings a smile to hear the kids laughing and yelling, even if mine have long since 'graduated.'
ReplyDeleteTime passes so quickly. My memories of Hank and May at preschool are so strong and yet that was more than thirty years ago.
ReplyDeleteTake a breath. woman. I am so glad you are documenting these times.
How beautiful!! What a sneak preview you had to their first bit of life "away" from you. A birds eye view.
ReplyDeleteHow fortunate you were to be able to watch your children as they played. I had a job once where the daycare was in the same office park as where I worked. I would go watch my daughter through the windows on my lunch break. The daycare is now my primary care doctor's office. He has a hard time believing that his office was where my daughter once played.
ReplyDeleteSo sweet.
ReplyDeleteI love this. I love the image of you leaning on a window, sneaking peeks. And your son and daughter -- both so beautiful and unique.
ReplyDeleteThis post is so tender! I would have hard a hard time not spending all day at that window, watching them play. Ayla tells me she often plays alone at recess, too. She needs a break from all the noise and chaos of school. And I remember doing the same thing, in 6th grade. Sneaking away from the group to go sit by the fence and have my brain to myself for a little while.
ReplyDeleteOh! I love this too. That you can look out your window and see them and hear them, that you watched your own two babies out that very same window, learning how to be themselves in the world. That's a beautiful gift/memory.
ReplyDelete"Drums keep pounding rhythm to the brain. The beat goes on." ~nancy
ReplyDeleteI think it's amazing that you are still living in the same place after all that time.
ReplyDeleteThis is the most beautiful thing I've read and seen in many months, dear Angella. It's a gift. You're a gift.
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