I sometimes consider taking a picture to catalog all the weird things I see on my walks. I’ve found money, seen lost toys, socks, gloves, you name it. Each item gets me wondering about how it found its way to that place on the street. This morning I found a Sonic mint.
I wondered what the story was of the mint. I imagined a car load of teens making a late night food run, not unlike my son and his friends. Easter break started on Thursday. My son and his friends made a McDonald’s and DQ run that night. How do I know? Because the family room where they hangout was littered with McNugget boxes, McDonald’s bags, and DQ cups with red spoons in them. Normal teenage behavior.
I continued down the street thinking about the Sonic mint. Did they search the bag inside the house wondering where the mint went? I smiled at that thought. I started to think about how crazy life is. Whoever lost the mint had no idea that I discovered it. That I would write a blog post about that mint.
Then Holden Caulfield came to mind. And I stopped for a minute because my eyes started to tear up.
I had one of those deep moments of understanding brought on when your life experiences connect to a book, or song, or other media. I understood why Holden didn’t want time to move on. Why he didn’t want to grow up. But standing in the middle of a street a few yards away from a Sonic mint I felt the weight of change Salinger was writing about in The Catcher in the Rye.
Especially over the last year, I have walked the streets of my neighborhood a lot. During the lockdown last spring, I would walk a few times a day. Sometimes with my kids, sometimes alone. It felt like the world had stopped… but life didn’t. Each day I was different. Today, I felt it. I understood how heavy life’s change is. Simultaneously, I felt joy and sadness.
Joy because life is an adventure. Each day brings opportunities to grow, to discover new things, to learn, to laugh, and to love. Yes, there are negative things that happen each day, but we can learn from them, too.
The wave of sadness was the strongest, though, standing there. Rationally we all know that time doesn’t stop. My second son will graduate in May. My youngest daughter is seven. I will turn 50 this year!. We all know the truth about time, but what hit me was the reality of all the good things that have ended. This morning there were only 5 Easter baskets, instead of 6. I will never watch my son wear number 15 in a varsity game. I will never be 18 again. I felt all those endings this morning.
I’m not sharing this to paint a picture that life is sad, on the contrary, those endings mean there were beginnings, middles, and stories to tell. But Holden was right. Every day we are different in some small way, even if you see a rainbow, it is sad knowing that rainbows have an end, too.
It is all Connected 
I always think of our being — of who we are each minute — as sliding along a spectrum. We can claim to be one thing or another, and some of us are staunchly so more often than not, but we’re usually sliding, learning, observing, accepting, rejecting. Great song choice. Cheers
Thank you for taking the time to read and leave a comment. We could have an interesting discussion on this idea of our being. I have a simple dadism, “We are all works in progress.” Yet, like you mentioned, that progress is dynamic and not always positive. I enjoy finding music for most of my posts. I’m glad the song connected with you.
I love the literature connection here. I did a lot of walking/hiking last year,especially when my husband first became ill. I HAD to get outside and into the sun. I still walk and sometimes find interesting treasures, too, and wonder about the stories behind them.
I walked almost everyday last spring. It did wonders for my mental and emotional health. Funny to think about all the life stories that are lived while we are in ours.