That was then, this is now, said my ninety-year-old cousin to me.
At her baby brother’s eightieth birthday party.
The then, my adolescent behavior at her parents’ overnight camp.
Fussing, crying to leave.
Return home.
To play according to my own whims.
Out of step with community activities.
The now, over sixty years later.
Still taunting me.
In the presence of this family.
Wanting to erase this episode.
Delete it like a paragraph in a Word document.
Wishing I could have blended in.
Enjoyed my time away.
Instead of resisting.
Causing a stir.
But, Selma’s words gave me pause.
Perhaps it’s I, not they, making much of it.
Indeed, time to let it go.
Like all things parted with on downsizing.
The now has no space for regrets.
For childhood embarrassments.
Only for compassion, kindness.
Exhorted by a matriarch.
Able to shrink humiliation
with one simple sage remark.
Lynn Benjamin
May 8, 2024
