Page 17 - Life In Naples March 2022 Flipbook

chickee talk

The Good Old Days

Are NOW Friday, March 25, 2022 at Wyndemere Country Club
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by Tina Osceola
he one thing that social media, all the wasted time and emotion I surrendered. Some folks will
mainly Facebook, has forced me compliment me on a photo and say they loved my smile or they NAPLES STAR
Tto do is to remember. Facebook loved my “outfit,” but all I see is the pain from that era. Knowing
“Memories” in the form of photos that I that I was hiding many truths while worrying about a relationship
recurringly stumble upon from my own that was never meant to be.
past or family’s history, pop up like a sweet Life is a journey and I was meant to learn a few things along
surprise from the days gone by. I look the way. The photo collage that makes up my life started taking
upon old black and white photos of my shape and making sense once I became a mom. When I look
grandparents and think how life must have at photos of time spent with my children knowing I was where
been for them. I gaze upon my childhood holiday pictures and I needed to be… where I was meant to be. All the trials and
remember how much I looked forward to that time of year. I can tribulations of my life led me to right here… right now. The good
even close my eyes and smell the moth balls that emanated from old days are here, each and every day that I wake up. I can make
the wooden storage box that I longed to see brought in from the a choice to embrace these days as the Grandma of Miakoda and Amanda Beights Dr. John Bahr Heather Mazurkiewicz Dr. Joaquin Hernandez
garage. My dad repurposed an old citrus crate into a box where we Otto, the Mother of Dakota and Brody, the Daughter of O.B.
would store our Christmas lights and decorations. For whatever and Joanne, the Partner of Arlo, the Sister to O.B…. the list goes
reason, that old box brings back more great memories than any on. It is a purposeful effort not to waste my time worrying about
present I ever received. Other than my red patent leather go-go something else or wishing I was somewhere else because of the
boots from Sears and Roebuck, I can’t even remember my most regret that I may feel in the future. I refuse to set myself up for
precious presents. I think back while writing this article and realize that failure. In five or thirty years, I don’t want to look at the
that that box represented family time. Time with my dad while we photos of myself with my parents, children, grandchildren, partner
unrolled the lights and tested for bulbs. My brother and I would or good friends and remember the thoughts behind those eyes as
crawl around and call out which color was burned out and our being anything but present… anything but grateful. Another life
mom and dad would come change it out. Time with my mom as lesson learned through these trying times of a global pandemic
she carefully took the Christmas decorations out of their boxes and is that tomorrow is never promised. It used to seem so cliché,
Lois Bolin Ph.D. Kimberly Tricker Robert Williamson Robert L. Nardi
handed them to us one by one to hang on the tree. The magic of however, I have lost so many near and dear to me and realized the
unwrapping my mom’s hand-painted nativity set. That one night value of that one last conversation, the last hug, the last promise to
we were all focused on one thing together. get together.
Photos kick my melancholy into overdrive and then I start
The good days are everyday.
time traveling into eras, chapters, and other universes that don’t
The good days are right now.
even belong to me. The ones that stop me in my tracks the most
are ones that remind me of what was on my mind at the time the Carpe diem!
photo was taken. Photos when I knew I wanted to be elsewhere
or when I was caught up in some political drama. Even worse, is
when I look at photos of myself during “boy troubles” and realize
Sandra Lee Buxton, Zoran Stamenkovic
CMCD
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