I've had this on my mind for a while and it's hard to know how to write about it without sounding whiny and wishful. Apparently, autumn brings up more sensory and fun memories than other seasons. While Seattle can be pretty this time of year, nothing beats New England. Woodsmoke and cinnamon, real apple cider from the cider presses on Avon "mountain" (we used to drive there when I was a kid and get fresh squoze), the leaves in dozens of shades of gold and orange, brown and red. Maple trees did it better than anyone. And the sound of scuffing and jumping through piles of fallen leaves. The crackle.

It's not the same here, no. But I've known that for years. I have lived more than half my life on the west coast and it's not the same. But only in the last few weeks did I find myself struggling almost with nostalgia. Not so much for the season but for...my youth. And I hate that. It's so trite. But I find myself in recent days, weeks even, thinking about what things were like when I was a kid, what it used to be, what I used to do, without thinking. What most of us take for granted. No, I was never athletic but walking, running, jumping in leaves. Roller skating. Getting up and reaching for something without thinking.
I don't know how to express it without sounding pathetic. I know as we age, all of us face this stuff. The loss of strength in my hands when I used to be Jar Opening Woman for my mom. Washing the car. Getting out of a damn chair with grace and without needing to think what you're doing. (ok, not a hammock or an Adirondack chair - that's NEVER possible) throwing on a shirt and grabbing your keys, and heading out the door. Taking a long walk somewhere good to listen to the silence. Partying until 3 at a convention and then taking an Ops shift at 10. Deciding at the last minute to go to a movie, out for dinner. Throwing a party. Holding ON to things. Not having to think or plan minor crap.

I guess I'm just missing, what, youth? Missing those years where crashing on someone's floor was no big deal, or on the ground, or in the car. Where jumping up onto the stage was easy. Moving without thinking about it. Playing tag, stupid stuff like hopscotch and "red light". Climbing over things and on things and into things. Riding a horse and rowing a boat. Being what passed for agile for a normal bookish kid.

I miss being a kid, I guess. Or I miss "normal". And to some degree I miss being fearless, as I think many/most of us were up to some point in our lives. And I'm not a regrets sort of person, so this snuck up on me.

Years ago, a doctor asked me about "adjusting to being disabled" and assumed I'd gone through a mourning process. No, I said, it just was. It just happened. Things happened. Things stopped working. Weird shit occurred. Then went away. then weirder shit occurred.

I'm thinking of/imagining myself as a somewhat gawky kid (I was taller then)(even with eight years of ballet) scuffing through leaves probably with a book in my hand. And what I took for granted back then. I miss that.