Brilliant … But Bouncy

Goggy! Goggy!

When we moved into our current home, our next door neighbor was a retired couple. They were sweet and quiet and, many years later, they downsized and moved away.

The house was sold to a couple who have so many kids, I can’t count them all. I know there are at least four, and one of them was still in the womb when they moved in. Instead of a lovely garden outside, now there is a swing set, a trampoline, a huge swimming pool, and – oddly – a refrigerator. There are balls and toys littering the yard. They also own 200 cars, all of which completely blanket the street and their driveway at night.

Okay, 200 cars might be an exaggeration. But they do have lots of kids.

Yesterday, I came home and two of their children were racing up and down the driveway, a five-year-old boy on a scooter and a younger girl yelling, “Goggy! Goggy!”

When I looked for a goggy, sure enough, the tiny person was chasing an even tinier dog.

It’s a cute dog. It’s actually the kind of dog I might want, if I decide to get another dog. It’s brown with wavy hair and looks nothing like my dog, Xena, who is no longer with us.

In less than the time it took me to register the word “dog” in my brain, I wanted to cry. But it wasn’t just the new puppy reminding me of my loss. I saw the little boy on the scooter and the little girl running after that dog and without forming the words, my brain tossed out the idea: Not mine anymore.

I looked down my own long, empty driveway. There are no scooters, no balls left outside, no puppy chasing the children. There’s no one playing basketball under the rusty hoop, no one romping through the yard, no one squealing with delight for no apparent reason. Our trampoline is covered in leaves and debris, and no one can be bothered to clean it off, even for a few minutes of fun.

My kids are grown; they’re leaving home. They spend their afternoons without me, preferring the company of friends in a chat room to board games with their old mom. They’re heading for a new life, one that doesn’t include me, one that doesn’t include running and romping and jumping.

And in case that were insufficient reason to be melancholy, eleven years ago, we got a dog. My boys ran and played with that dog in the yard nearly every day – rain, snow or sun – until their little legs were too tired to continue. We took her for car rides, walks up the street, hikes in the woods. We took her camping and boating. We took her to the store, the library and school. She rode with us to two different elementary schools, a middle school, and a high school.

She was even show-and-tell at Shane’s preschool.

And now Shane is in high school. Dylan is on his way to college. And our beloved family pet is just gone. For me, those days are over. My time as “Mom” is dwindling down, and my neighbors are just starting up.

They have no idea how fast it will go, even if they try to hang on with every fiber of their being.