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The Carefree Days

Let's color and run in the grass with our bare feet

I remember what it was like to be young.  I remember how those summer days felt.  The smell of fresh cut grass and a newly mown field.  Looking back on it, I realize the world wasn’t carefree at all.

The world had just come out of World War II.  The economies of the world were still in recovery and the cold war was just beginning its long freeze.  But for me, it wasn’t about money, or financial security.  We lived in rural Ohio on 8 acres of land that I knew very well; every ant hill, gopher hole and berry bush.

It was a simpler time.  I roamed far and wide well beyond those 8 acres.  Days filled with discovery. Nights with campfires, tents, and friends.

Those are days that we only get to live once.  They don’t return at the other end of the cycle.  We have eaten of the fruit of the tree of knowledge.  We know the world isn’t the carefree place we knew in our youth.

But those days aren’t gone forever.  No I get to glimpse them almost everyday.  I see the children who are now living their carefree days. They don’t know about the tea party, or the housing crisis.  They don’t have a mortgage or car loan.  When I see these children in the midst of their carefree days  I look them in the eyes.  (“Old” people don’t often look them in the eyes, they should, yes, they really should) and we share a moment, I smile, they smile.

If they are old enough, maybe a quick question or comment.  For a few seconds I get to share those days again.  I think that’s one reasons grandchildren bring such joy.  We get an extended period of time to once again experience the carefree days.

Comments

  1. Ah, yes I understand about the carefree days. Good writing, Dave!

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