School Carnival

I haven't written here for a few years and am doing now again because I cannot walk- at least I was told not to walk for exercise.  I am doing my exercises and going for Physical Therapy and I think/hope I might be getting better.  I have two more weeks until I meet with Mr. Podiatrist again so, this "writing thing" might be short lived but I find it helps me a lot...here's a memory from when the kids were little I am writing about again-


The Carnival we didn't get to go to

We all lounged on the trampoline with blankets a lot. The tramp became sort of an extra room when the weather was good. We'd read or play a game or just lie there and look up at the sky or the leaves of the trees that shaded us. We'd laze to the wave it made whenever anyone stepped on or off.  I could spend hours there on a summer day and see who would eventually come out to talk or snuggle, have enough of that and go in when someone else or two someone's would then come out. We'd scoot the edge of the tramp up to the porch out the back door and it was just so easy to walk onto the bouncy room.  Sometimes someone would want to jump and I'd have to get off or have motion sickness.

We had no back yard neighbors to the west, just the church park grass and parking lot and Church which acted as a buffer against all the other houses and people in our neighborhood.  I had several dreams when we first moved in that there were airplanes that would land in the church park and some dreams were scary because it looked like the planes were not going to stop in time and might run into our yard  through our fence. (A weird thing is that, I later found out that this area was a landing field and mini airport before the houses were built)

The back yard was like a delight and is one of the reasons we bought this house in Sandy. It is private and delightful for the most part, except for the times someone would bring their dogs over for a run, and our anxious dogs would run at the fence and bark at them until we'd make them come inside. 

On this particular evening after dinner,  I had some books I was hoping to be able to read to the kids, always sublime when i could get everyone to want to listen to a story or a chapter because it seemed our hearts contented themselves in reading. This night though, no one was in the mood. Kari was still at work and the children were fitful.  There was a period of maybe 4 or 5 (or 6) years from 2002 to 2007 (?) where it seemed we were always teetering on some financial ledge, due to the precarious nature of the business "start-ups" we were involved with. During that period we were always hopeful this new thing would "go big" if we just held on during the beginning phase.

We had food and the basics and I think my mom bought the kids almost all their clothes for several years, but I could not come up with the money for tickets to the School Carnival being held that night. We could see through the fence that there were a myriad of blow-up style bouncy houses and water slides, we imagined hot dogs and could almost smell popcorn in the air. 

 I was comforted, maybe in answer to a silent prayer for how to comfort my children who really wanted to be over where the fun was! Time slowed down for me and I was wrapped in the warm evening air and deeply consoled by love that seemed to float down to me from above. I was suddenly aware as I lay there surrounded by my little kids, that I had everything I ever wanted.  What a gift to be in our backyard, in the fading light of the evening sky, even with their seeming melancholia, which created in us a longing to be together and find solace for our lack.  I realized it was a blessing to NOT have to be there in that commotion! We could hear the screams and the music and I imagined the running and jumping and wondered who would be having the first meltdown if we had gone. I think our moods lightened, and I wonder now if my kids remember the sting of not being able to go to the carnival or if it is even in their memories at all? 

I'm sure we read together as we listened to the fading sounds and eventual end of the goings-on and we lingered there until we were chilly and tired before we went in to our beds, with the realization that we really hadn't missed anything important.  I reflect on this memory often, because it is one that defined us and also became a theme. We have been drawn towards activities that are replenishing and quieter that the noise.  We have enjoyed our backyard, which still provides us an oasis with tall trees and shade and a place to sit on a warm summer night where we can read or be comforted at times, when it feels like we can not have what we think we want to have.