Away

Janie, hand in hand with Chloe.

In my memory, I can’t see their faces because they’re walking away, but I know they’re happy.

It’s early June, the morning air fresh with  last night’s rain and the miles of fresh farmland in every direction.

My girls are so excited they start to skip down the midway.

Once a year, always in June.

Adventureland was a family-run concern open from May to September, virtually unchanged from when I was a girl.

That’s why I loved it.

We had, what, fifteen summers?

And every year they grew older, they grew away from me.

 

Friday Fictioneers

24 thoughts on “Away

  1. Dear Josh,

    Such a poignant piece. I find it interesting that you wrote this from a feminine POV. That’s something I found fascinating about Memoirs of a Geisha. So you’re in good company with Arthur Golden. ;)
    I couldn’t help but think about Fairyland, the amusement part in KC when I was growing up. At any rate, I’ll strop rambling and tell you that I enjoyed this piece. Stellar writing as usual.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

  2. It’s tough as a parent watching them grow up and being independent. I sense something more than that here, an even more permanent sense of loss. Nice piece.

  3. Like Iain I sense the permanent loss of the two girls. Maybe there was an accident on one of the rides. Although it’s quite possible that they’ve just grown up and left home. Some moms find that almost unbearable.
    Good, subtle writing, Josh!

  4. As the parent of a thirteen year old, I so understand this! From the moment we have them, we know we’re losing them – that’s what parenting is about – but as they pull away from you and all your left with is wistful memories of when you were the centre of their world – man, it’s a kicker.
    Lovely write Josh

  5. That separation growing… so poignant, and I can see that in the colors of the image.. there is something special in a faded image. Somehow there is that period where they try their wings and then you reunite as grown-ups

  6. So sad the way they can grow away from us. Our daughter is still only two, and she sticks to us like glue. Sometimes it’s a pain but then I consider what she might be like as a teenager.

  7. Everyone else already said poignant, so I’m going with… profoundly touching, how crushing it is to feel the people we love slipping away from us, and hold fast to those blurry neon flash-memories of when the whole world was ours alone.

Don't just stand there.