Hopeful days

Window sunset

When Spencer bought his home two years ago this month, we began moving him piece by piece — bag by bag — until the rented home he shared with roommates morphed into his brand-new condo filled with all his belongings.

Even in the moment those hot June days, I was already hit with a wave of nostalgia. What’s the term for missing something that hasn’t even happened yet? I knew the place would never be that empty again. And in my still-sort-of-a-new-girlfriend-but-hopeful state, I couldn’t shake the feeling that his home would someday become our home.

As we inch closer and closer to that happening, I’m the one moving in shoe by shoe (literally) these days. The early evenings when we’d collapse on the living room floor are long gone, but last week still found us huddled around the open windows watching the end of a dissipating summer storm.

That was our entertainment in those early days: without a couch or TV or cable (eh, still no cable), we’d talk over cold sodas in newly-set-up camp chairs near the windows after all the work was done.

In the midst of wedding planning, moving and arranging a thousand other big and small upheavals, I needed to remember those simple, hopeful days.

That sunset was truly beautiful.

14 thoughts on “Hopeful days

  1. Sometimes I look back on those simple days, before the kids and the chaos. Long walks, talking and dreaming about what our future would look like. It is good that you are absorbing this time and keeping them safe in your heart as a memory!


  2. Gorgeous sunset. These are the best of time, appreciate them. (the rest of the days will be good too, but there is something about this time, full of hope and possibilities, that is magical)


  3. I’m thinking of a few words that might fit. One is the Russian word toska. It connotes a sensation of great spiritual anguish, usually without any specific cause. It could be nostalgia. There is the German word torschlusspanik. Literally it means β€œgate-closing panic,” but its contextual meaning refers to the fear of diminishing opportunities or sense of loss as one ages. And finally I think I would throw in the Portuguese word saudade, which refers to the feeling of longing for something or someone that you love, and which is lost. There are some more like this but the concept is, as you can see, very widespread around the world. You’re getting older; you’re losing something that was part of your youth and that you can never get back, and even if it is a good thing, it is also a sad thing….


    • Lovely — and perfect. Thank you! I knew the right sentiment was out there. And how impressed will everyone be when I weave saudade into my everyday vocabulary?!


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