We don’t know what we have until it’s gone. At least, this is how the cliché goes. We live with the routine and pedestrian annoyances of everyday living rarely taking stock of the relative value of the known commodity.
We want – nay, demand – change! Tired of a losing season or two we excommunicate the quarterback vesting our hopes and expectations in the unknown. Then in the absence of the exiled warrior, we wax poetic about the days of yore and sing songs of his heroic exploits in foreign lands. Our recent Manning obsession only reinforces the fickle nature of our admiration. From a distance, it seems, he has become idealized.
Likewise, this week past saw the passing of Mrs. Ronald Reagan. Liberal television news anchors who once seethed at the perceived uppity, little woman are now extolling Nancy’s virtue. Where once she was called shallow and obsessed with the frivolous, those same voices now proclaim the passing of “fashion icon” and elegant model of class and behind-the-scenes supportive leadership.
Rose colored glasses have been worn by humans for centuries. Rarely do we love anything from beginning to end. We tire of our favorite foods, our best girls, and our precocious toddler. Each, in turn, will drift from its lauded status into something that ranges from fatigue to outright irritation. But, what’s the difference? How can the same action be cute one minute and contemptuous the next?
We mature, hopefully, throughout our lives. Our tastes and proclivities change. And, our needs and cravings accommodate that progression. But, do we pause to consider whether our push for change is legitimate or simply reflective of the fickle nature of a wondering spirit? Or, is it inevitable that we expect to make change AND keep things the same? Kudos to loves lost, but more to loves kept.