Some days I’m a bit melancholy – maybe a left-over feeling from childhood days when we were new immigrants. Can an eight year old feel lost and displaced in Gold Mountain(Canada)? Where was the gold? In my child’s mind I had expected to see a land filled with colourful balloons and lollypops. There was neither. It was puzzling.
I felt the smallness of our town, the dirt streets and the emptiness. I felt the smallness of me. What I remembered the most was the loneliness of my mother. I did not recognized it as such at the time but rather felt it. I was probably equally as lonely. We were far away from home and our extended family. We did not know the language.
It was so many years ago. Was my memory correct? Was it true? Or was it distorted by the clouds, a sleepless night and the moody blues? The thinking mind can be so deceptive. I have sunnier memories of other days when my mother recount stories from her childhood, of her siblings, her parents and China. I have a rich and colourful heritage, one to be proud of.
I am dusting off the cobwebs and debris of my mind. I am sweeping them out the door. I’ve finished unravelling 2014 and now ready to tackle 2015 of Susannah Conway’s Unravelling the Year Ahead. When I am feeling discouraged, it helps to look back at the seeds I have sown and the rewards reaped the past year. I have not done a small thing. Life is not a small thing, but it is made up of many little things.
The evening is here. There is no sun to set. The day is done. Time to put thinking aside and rest on my laurels.