Memories: Life Goes Hurtling (away) from the Past (8/12/2019)

It’s funny how things come to you, seemingly out of the blue.  A long-a-go moment thrust into the now.  A forgotten tid-bit from a time past in stark contrast with the present.  A trigger – a smell, a sound, a feeling, a sight – that stimulates a nostalgia that abruptly stops the now, and brings a remnant of the past into sharp focus…if only for a moment.  A twinkle of a memory that shines brightly again – a second chance at glory, if only for a moment as the memory flares and quickly fades, proving that life is hurtling by too fast. 

Whether a frigid memory, ensconced in cold feelings of dread, bringing with it the icy strangling fingers of regret, pain and sorrow that haunt your being – Or the memory that soothes you and floods you with warmth like the perfect cup of tea – Or the delectable memory that tingles across your skin and washes passion through you like a midnight dip in a cool lake on a hot summer night – Or a memory that comes as a thunderstorm in the night, building quickly, replete with anxiety, awakening all your senses but promising a flood to clean your soul – all these memories come from a story unique to each of us in our journey.  From these memories we can find lessons to propel us onward, reasons to grow, keys to the future, reminders to live life to the fullest and sometimes simply peace and comfort. 

And yet, in contrast to the memory that is beaconed out into the light of my consciousness and comes into focus, (whether good or bad), I find the most troubling occurrence is the instance in which a ghost of a memory is stirred, a twitching toward what I know must be there, yet, it keeps itself at bay – cowering in the shadows, or maybe a shadow itself.  My attempt to focus or draw out this type of memory does little, if anything, but to chase the memory further into the shadow – blurring the edges, scattering what little is there as if smoke on a breeze. 

I often wonder why some moments etch themselves into my being.  Why can I clearly remember the taste of an apple, the way my hair was falling at my chin and tickling my neck, the way my bright red dress swished against my hips as I walked and how confident and pretty I felt at that moment – 25 years ago?  Why can I close my eyes today in front of a mirror and open them to find I’ve been transported back 27 years to my youthful reflection stating back at me, hair in a French braid, the smell of Taco-Tuesday dinner lingering in the air, putting mascara on in the bathroom at my parents house and wondering if it really would make my eyes look bigger if I only covered my top lashes?  When the heat from a car vent first hits my faces, why am I transported back 30 years to the backseat of a blue wagon and my teenage crush calling his car heater “flamethrower?”  How does the taste of a snack cake landing me in the middle of Missouri in 1984, surrounded by aunts, uncles and cousins in the damp summer heat as fireflies lit up the evening?      

I find I have moments of melancholy when I consider the vast change in our society over the years.  I think about the change to the way we communicate now - the way that we make memories.  I wonder if we are losing more than just in-person social interaction as a result of our “social” media environment.  I wonder if we are depriving ourselves of memories.  Are we creating weak minds that won’t be sparked by a smell, a sound or a sight - weak minds that are a result of lack-luster personal engagement that has lost the human factor? 

What a sad thing that would be – to lose our past – to lose the connection to who we were – to lose the gems that are our memories – to lose the silly memory of listening to the top 40 Count Down with my finger hovering above the record/play button on my cassette recorder, or the smell of my mom’s kitchen in the morning, the feel of my dad’s bear hugs, the sound of my brother playing trucks in his room across the hall, the memory of a snowy pre-dawn walk with my mom, a family road trip vacation in a conversion van with an air conditioner that literally spit snowflakes out the vent, skiing with my dad, butterflies when I first held the hand of a crush, my favorite pink sweater, the smell of my grandpa’s pipe, saying yes, the noise of a crowded school hallway between classes, learning to drive, being thrown out into tall snow drifts, falling in love for the first time, falling in love for the last time, saying goodbye to loved ones and saying hello to new loved ones, the pain of getting teeth pulled, learning to ride a bike and put cards in the spokes, string cheese and realizing your are in love, eating hand pies in grandma's kitchen watching my mom try to "snort," jumping into the cold lake from the pontoon, cutting wood in the summer, jeeping in Moab, hoping someone would ask me to dance, my first apartment, my first car, my first kiss, making pompom animals, driving back and forth over over grass-hopper dip, reading all summer in the shade of a Boxelder tree, making jam and canning vegetables, skinny dipping in the wee hours of the morning before heading back to work, the rush of driving derby cars, traveling outside the US for the first time, mom falling out of a choke cherry tree, the smell of the Mode-o-Day store, getting my first tattoo by myself, an early morning breakfast at my Aunt Krystal’s table, backyard concerts, ATV trips, sweet tarts and a light-bright at my Aunt Diana’s, a bus ride and a cool tree house at the Stanley’s, the first visit to Doug’s hometown and giving each other the same present, 72 hours stuck in the Denver airport, a night in apartment 311, sleepovers and ghost stories, Nachos and 8-Ball ceremonies…

These memories are cherished pieces of who I am and they serve as a tribute to the amazing people that have graced my journey thus far, and a reminder that moments really do go hurtling by...too fast.