The Memory Keeper

holding a memoryWhat do we hold inside us? So many memories, both big and small, that piece together to make us who we are. It’s a random sampling but here are a few of mine:

 

Learning to dance on my father’s toes.
The kitchen in my childhood home steamy with the scent of dinner cooking.
Playing scientist in the pantry with my sister.
The exhilarating feel of the cool water on my sun-warmed body as I dove into the pool.
The sound of the birch trees in our front yard swaying in the wind.
The tanned, lined, smoke-scented hands of my dad.
Wind Song hugs from my mom.
The soreness of my fingers as I learned to play guitar.
The way he says my name.
The musty smell of my high school. Is that what history smells like?
The tenderness of his hands as he cupped my face to kiss me for the first time.
My first buzz off wine coolers.
Riding the Giant Dipper and feeling my stomach catch in my throat.
Getting monumentally lost with my high school best friends on our first “adult” road trip to Chico, CA.
Catching a falling star in my gaze.
The grip of my sister’s hand as she pushed and pushed, giving birth to Finn.
Bonfire scented hair and red wine inspired sharing.
Making grasshopper pie at Thanksgiving.
Saturday Night Live, a pull out bed and our first time.
Shock and fear after being broadsided and spun around in a full circle in my VW Super Beetle by a woman running a red light.
The taste of a clove cigarette on my lips.
The smell of tuberoses in my Grandma’s hospice room.
Burning the palm of my hand.
Hearing his voice for the first time and feeling the quickening of my heart.
Falling off my yellow banana seat bike in the middle of the road.
The clapping and cheers of an audience for a job well done.
Hearing, I love you… for the first and the last time.

 

What’s a memory you hold dear?

 

“I want you here tonight/I want you here/’Cause I can’t believe what I found/I want you here tonight want you here/Nothing is taking me down, down, down…/Except you my love/Except you my love…/Come all ye lost/Dive into moss/And hope that my sanity covers the cost/To remove the stain of my love/In paper mache…” -I Remember, Damien Rice

 

14 thoughts on “The Memory Keeper

  1. I remember this one time… I was on a pullout bed watching Saturday Night Live… and I was wearing black lycra biker shorts… I feel like the host was either John Goodman or Christopher Walken… My memory’s not as good as yours 🙂

  2. Each memory is like a thread, in the afghan throw that is Me. I can pull a thread and show oyu, but so so many to choose from! I’d have to segment it, like Childhood, then adulthood, and then motherhood or something, yeah. I am a nostalgic creature.

    These days, I look at my budding teen daughters and remember as if it were a dream, when they were toddlers. I have pictures that demarcate time, but how can it be so different from reality now?

  3. What a wonderful list. Mine, I think like most, could go on and on. The first time I tasted cookies I baked in my own house, the way I signed fifty billion signatures to own that house, how it felt to fall asleep in my own bed, in my own house that first night… geez, and that’s just the house stuff!

  4. Your mention of the Big Dipper spawned a vivid memory of my daughter’s first trip on that roller coaster.

    The look of terror and glee as she clutched the safety bar~is forever burned into my memory.

    …and how could I forget when she asked to try the other roller coaster with that giddy gleem in her eye.

    *sigh* Another Roller Coaster Junkie is born.

  5. What a neat idea for a post, Ms. Sizzle.

    I think my high school had that smell, too. What is that? On second thought, it’s probably best we don’t know.

    The smell of hospitals in winter, and the feeling that it’s all a lot of oysters but no pearls…

  6. I was thinking about something like this the other day… the top ten memories that come to mind when you were truly happy.

    Loved your list 🙂

  7. My husband shedding a single tear after the birth of our daughter and telling me that he would do anything for us and the security that I felt with it.

    Camping on my 16th birthday and skinny dipping for the first time.

    Sitting in a car alone with a boy for the first time and explaining that I would not have sex with him but we could definetely make out.

    Crying the first day of college later to feel like I owned the place.

    The freedom of my last final being over.

    The freedom of the last day of work.

  8. Oh, my dear, you have hit a nerve. I have way too many to list but will just say I am so deeply saddened by people who have lost thier memories… I wouldn’t want to lose a one, even the bad ones. They are part of what make me who I am.

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