It all started today when I walked in the 
living room and saw the saxophone laying on the couch.  The kid was out the door and going down the 
road on the school bus, but the saxophone remained.  I knew I would have to take the saxophone to 
school for the kid because I am oftentimes just as irresponsible and 
flighty.  The problem wasn’t the 
saxophone per se.  The problem was my wet 
hair, my unpolished face, my 6 year old who hadn’t had breakfast and the sink 
full of dirty dishes that I left last night so I could join the family for a 
movie.  I was counting on having a good 
hour and a half to tie up some loose ends around the house before having to run 
into work this morning.  I was hoping to 
get dinner in the crock pot for once and maybe even knock out a workout on the 
elliptical.  I looked over and saw a 
nasty bowl of last night’s dried up baked beans.  I thought I was going to puke.  Don’t get me wrong…those baked beans were the 
bombdiggity last night.  But the undumped 
baked beans were the last straw in a myriad of things that I suddenly felt I had 
no control over.
My first child was born in Bluefield, VA 
We lived in a trailer. 
A Single-Wide Trailer
on about an acre of land 
 with pastures all 
around.
 I 
never appreciated that little modest trailer for what it was. 
It 
truly was a time in my life of utter simplicity and beauty...at least that’s how 
I see it now.  I’m pretty sure at the 
time that I didn’t enjoy it nearly as much.  
To me, it was just a stepping stone until we bought a house of our 
own.  I was looking 
forward--not relishing the splendor that life had to offer at that very 
minute.  I know it wasn’t perfect 
then.  Life is never perfect. 
I was 
lonely back then —no family or friends nearby and my husband was working 10-hour 
shifts.  He worked two hours away which 
meant baby and I spent 14 hours a day together.  
I’m pretty sure I had some post-partum depression, too.  So amidst my beautiful, perfect recollections 
of the past, I know them to be less than the perfect way I am recalling 
them.  
The amazing 20th century English 
author Virginia Woolf said,
"I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realizes an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past. ”
We had a covered front porch in that 
trailer.  
I asked my grandparents if they would part 
with their old green wooden porch swing that had provided so many memories 
throughout my life.  I remember being at Momaw 
& Papaw's one time as a little girl.  It was summertime and we got a terrible thunderstorm.  The power went out.  I remember going out on the front porch 
after the danger was gone and swinging on the porch swing as it continued to 
rain.  It's one of those memories that I hold so very close to my heart.  When I 
close my eyes, I can almost smell the rain.
Kevin and 
Riley swinging at Momaw & Papaw's (Mossy, WV)
Kevin installed 
in on our front porch.  Riley and I spent 
lots of mornings and lots of evenings swinging in that old green porch 
swing.  
Riley, cousin 
Alex & Momaw Griffy enjoying the swing
Spring 
1999
Just like Virginia Woolf said though, I 
didn’t realize the emotion at the time though—I guess I really couldn’t.  Looking back, I can see it like it was 
yesterday.  
It makes me smile and get teary-eyed all in 
the same instant.  I was young…I was so 
very young.  Everything was so new and 
fresh.  
I can 
see Riley’s chubby little cheeks and those big blue eyes staring back at me as 
he stood on the porch and held onto the swing.  
Finally the days came that I would have to put the little wooden gate up 
at the edge of the porch so he wouldn’t tumble down the steps. 
 (here's the 
gate)
I can see his little chubby legs in his 
rompers.  
I can 
see my hand holding his—
hands not stained with age spots and signs of 
wear and tear—
but young, beautiful hands eager to 
experience what the world had to offer.
I remember when we bought Riley his first 
little swing all of his own.  It was a 
little red one and we tied it onto the clothesline pole in the backyard.  
I pushed and pushed and pushed him on that 
swing.  Kevin raised a garden when we 
lived in that trailer and I remember him working in the garden and taking breaks 
to talk to the man who lived behind us, Mr. Stowers.  
Right in here 
is where Kevin had his garden and you can see The Stowers house in the distance, 
as well as the white fence posts where Kevin 
and Mr. 
Stowers would chat.
Mr. & Mrs. Stowers didn’t have any 
children, but they treated us like their own when we lived there.  Mrs. Stowers came to visit me often and 
brought us apples from her trees and potatoes from her garden.  She invited us to her church and we began 
attending and made many friends and many memories.    
We moved from that trailer the following 
year.  We bought a little house in a 
sweet little neighborhood in June of 2000.  Mr. 
Stowers passed away not too long after we moved out of the 
trailer.
My dad and my step mom and my sister-in-law 
came down before we moved in and we painted almost every room of the house.  That was the first time I had ever painted in 
my life.  I was terrible.  So bad.  
They were good though, so the walls looked fantastic!  It was fun 
rehabbing the house, but I 
didn’t really appreciate our modest 1000 square foot house for the little gem it 
was until after we left.  I was always 
trying to change it…make it bigger…make it better.  
So many memories…
I had a Halloween party the fall that we 
moved into our new house.  I didn’t realize when I invited our new neighbors 
over for a silly Halloween party that they would come to be some of our best 
friends.  I didn’t know that it would 
hurt so much leaving a town that I didn’t grow up in, but I had come to call 
“home.”  
We moved from Bluefield in March of 
2003--nine years ago.  
I’m different now.  
Life doesn't feel so simple anymore.  I have three kids, 
husband with crazy shift-working hours.  I work.  I go to school.  I organize things and I head things up.  Sometimes I stand back and ask myself who is this woman??  And then 
sometimes I look in the mirror, expecting to find the 18 year old that I feel 
like I should be, and I wonder who the heck is looking back at me.  
Sometimes I 
think to myself...who let me do this???  Who let me get married and then gave me 
the responsibility of being in charge of three other human beings???  Sometimes 
it honestly blows my mind.  
I miss that simple girl—that young rookie 
with absolutely nothing on her life resume.  
I miss the way her eyes glowed with energy and optimism.  
Parts 
of that girl will always be with me, but I have a lot more chalked up on that 
life resume now.  My days do not go by at 
turtle speed anymore, but rather, at the speed of light.  
My days aren’t spent picking dandelions or 
admiring hundreds of different blades of grass.  
The simplicity of those first years of marriage and motherhood are long 
behind me and in their place are practices, games, matches, meetings, services, 
parties, rallies, fund raisers, projects, homework, orthodontics, video gaming 
and relationship complexities.   
The reason people find it so hard to be happy is that they always see the past better than it was, the present worse than it is, and the future less resolved than it will be." ~Marcel Pagnol
Me soaking up 
newborn lovin'
Fall of 
1998
It’s a different world.  It’s a fast-paced, complex world.  
With three children come a lot of duties and 
a lot of different schedules.  
But a lot of laughs and fun too!  
I love my life, despite its pace and it’s 
difficulties, and if Virginia Woolf is correct, (and I’m willing to bet she is), 
in 15 years, I will look back on 2012 and remember my “glory days”—when I had so 
much energy and life was so simple :)  
Cheers to the present and the hope that we 
will try to relish (at least a little) before it’s the past.
"We seem to be going through a period of nostalgia, and everyone seems to think yesterday was better than today. I don't think it was, and I would advise you not to wait ten years before admitting today was great. If you're hung up on nostalgia, pretend today is yesterday and just go out and have one hell of a time. "~Art Buchwald
 


 
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