mother nature is a man and other observations..

Metaphor..”a word or phrase for one thing that is used to refer to another thing in order to show or suggest that they are similar.” Merriam-Webster Dictionary.
Two women talking on the bus. One explaining to the other what a metaphor is….”you can’t go home again.”
This brought memories back to me. High school reunions for one. For me, and this is just my opinion, certain memories should be left back in 1952, when I was a twirler and then a flag swinger. What joy at all the football games and parades. I think if I tried to swing a baton, I would hit myself in the head and get a concussion for sure.
I did go to a few reunions and stopped. We all change of course, but I like changes to be gradual, not all at one time in a large bare room with most not recognizing each other…..and then a really bad dinner. Not to say it doesn’t work for those who love reunions.
I also remember when my husband, and his life long friend decided they wanted to revisit their old dorm room at Wharton. We were at a Penn football game, and then visited their room. The young guys looked at them as though aliens from another planet invaded their space. It was a bit awkward to say the least.
Driving past my home in Maplewood, New Jersey was a jarring experience. Our very beautiful very contemporary home nestled in with old colonials stood out looking so different. We loved the Cubist design. We loved everything about our home. We raised our sons there and celebrated our lives. I remember a humorous story. My youngest son was driven home one day from school. He was about 10. I was looking out the window for him and I saw his carpool drive past our home and in the driveway next door. He waved goodbye and then walked home. After a kiss hello, I asked why he was let off at our neighbors. He said the woman who was driving asked what kind of crazy people live in the strange-looking house. He answered, “Oh they’re very nice.” We had a good laugh over that one. It was a good lesson in not judging and respecting individuality.
It was not a pleasant moment in time driving past memories. It was painful and I fantasized about living there again as a young mother with a wonderful husband and two fantastic sons.
I can’t. I’ll never go home again.
New York City my home now. A pretty good place to hang out in…. New Memories…..