It’s another lovely Prompt for the Promptless from Rarasaur, and another lovely word for which there is no exact translation into English.
Saudade is a Portuguese word that describes a deep emotional state of nostalgic longing for an absent something/someone that one loves. Moreover, it often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing will never return.
Saudade was once described as “the love that remains” after someone is gone. Saudade is the recollection of feelings, experiences, places or events that once brought excitement, pleasure, well-being, which now triggers the senses and makes one live again. It can be described as an emptiness, like someone (e.g., one’s children, parents, sibling, grandparents, friends, pets) or something (e.g., places, things one used to do in childhood, or other activities performed in the past) that should be there in a particular moment is missing, and the individual feels this absence. It brings sad and happy feelings all together, sadness for missing and happiness for having experienced the feeling.
Above text and lots more information at : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saudade
This fuzzy picture to me represents a saudade feeling or moment, because it elicits memories and emotions which are both happy and sad.
Let’s get the sad parts over with first.
1. Mom and Dad have been gone for almost five years. They aren’t coming back, except in my head. I miss them.
2. I miss wearing pink pants. Come on, you have to admit that pink pants and missing wearing them are both incredibly sad things.
3. This was my Aunt May’s house. She’s gone too. And for all I know, so is her house. Perhaps the world misses her decorating skills.
4. I miss having dark brown hair. But my old face and aging skin doesn’t.
And now for the happy stuff.
1. I was going to crop off those crooked pictures at the top of this shot, but decided not to. There’s a weird kind of symmetry going on here – three pictures, three pillows, three people. One crazy couch from the eighties. A happy little moment in time.
2. I remember mom was always smiling and laughing. Unless she was sleeping. Although it’s possible she smiled and laughed in her sleep too.
3. My dad was a handsome man his whole life. He often put on a serious face for photographs. But he was rarely serious.
4. There was a whole period of my life when my kids were growing up that flew by in the blink of an eye. I don’t remember being unhappy, so I guess I wasn’t.
I don’t long to go back in time, although I’m glad to remember the happy times. I don’t think remembering should make a person sad. A little nostalgia is fine, and knowing what your journey was like to get to this point is great knowledge to have. But it’s today that’s important. The here and the now and the joy of this exact moment. Being exactly who we are. Making happy memories with the people we love. The love we share now will be the love that remains tomorrow.
Life is short – I don’t want to waste a minute of it on emptiness and longing.
Daily Prompt: All Grown Up When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?
Strangely enough, I can remember as plain as day telling my mother on my sixth birthday how happy I was to be the wonderful age of six and all grown up at last. Too bad I don’t recall what her reaction was to that. But six to me was such a magical number, so incredibly more mature than 4 or 5. I would soon be going off to school with my big brother. I would learn how to read what the people in comic books were actually saying to eachother without making any of it up. How could life possibly get any better than that?
My daughter had a similar epiphany at an even earlier age. She made a simple announcement one day. “I can tie my own shoes, and I can blow bubbles with my gum, and when I get some hair in my nose I will be all growed up.” Who was I to argue with her criteria? These things are different for everyone.
I don’t remember my son ever making any such great declaration about adulthood, so maybe it’s just a girl thing. Whenever W talks about his own childhood we’re left with the impression that he was born grown up, since he vows he never did bad or childish things and never once, even as a teenager, disappointed his parents. I’m certainly glad he got a little more interesting later in life.
The funny thing about having felt grown up so soon is that it has given me more time than most to realize I might have been wrong about it that first time, and just as mistaken at all the different stages in my life where I’ve believed (however briefly) the very same thing. Graduating highschool, going to college, getting a real job, being in a serious relationship, getting married, having children, and asking myself with every new experience, now have I learned everything there is to know? Have I left childish things behind? Am I living my very best grown up life?
The older I get the less I care. Growing up is no longer one of my lofty aspirations. There are days when being a grown up really bites and I think how much fun it was to be that deluded little six-year-old. With less visible nose hair. Age and wisdom and maturity are not always all they’re cracked up to be. It’s silly to be in such a hurry to grow up and take on all the hard stuff that life is going to hand you.
For some reason or other, growing older is what has finally taught me how amazing it is to see the world through the eyes of a child. And the older I get, the more I want to act like one. I don’t mean the crying, foot stomping, temper tantrum moments (although every once in a while those can be wonderfully therapeutic). I mean experiencing moments of pure delight and wonder and joy, being happy with the simplest pleasures, playing and laughing and loving and holding nothing back.
So if some serious stick in the mud adult rolls his eyes at your antics and tells you to grow up, don’t do it. Just say no. You don’t have to stick your tongue out for real, but imagine in your head how great actually doing it would make you feel. And then go ahead and feel exactly like that.