Through the wonders of cable TV, I found myself watching an episode of 'The Waltons' at Dylan's house as I packed my stuff up to go. It was my absolute favorite program as a teenager. I have not seen it in years. My back was to the TV when the theme music began to play, I froze, and the past came rushing in. I remembered the pattern of the brown rug I sprawled on to watch it. I remembered the olive green naugahyde furniture. I remembered what it was to be skinny, to be healthy, to be young, and to take these things for granted.
I sat down to watch the program and indulge my nostalgia. It was so sweet and simple and wholesome. The episode ended happily, as they most always did. "Good night, Mary Ellen. Good night, mama. Good night, Daddy, etc." Unexpectedly, I found myself ready to cry. It sure would be nice if life could be that sweet and simple and wholesome. It would be nice if all crises worked themselves out in an hour. It would be nice if everything had a happy ending.