Memories. The things we hold most dear to us when we need something to remind us of the good...or in some cases, the bad. But what if you just can't dig up those memories that you once held dear and for the life of you, can't seem to find them in the depths of your brain. Babies. Parents. Moments. Achievements. Emotions. Gone.
I was holding Amelia today after I nursed her and rocked her to sleep, simply because I wanted to be close to her. I do this from time to time because the entire feeling of holding her like this will soon be just a memory that I hold dear. I found myself smelling her. Taking it all in and hoping, praying really, that I can remember that smell and how she feels, until the very last second of my life. It occurred to me that not too long ago, my son was this age and of course we have pictures of him and I vaguely remember nights holding him, but I just can't find the file in my brain with his smell. I fear that it's gone. My brain has simply let it slip away into the depths of the never returning along with many of my other memories that I held so incredibly dear. I have extreme trouble with this and finally I realize that my anxiety of fearing that I will forget, ultimately makes me forget. Another cruel and completely awful parenting moment that I am neither proud of nor completely accepting about.
I was talking with an older woman who has three grown boys, two married with kids. We were talking about their (the grown boys) preschool/school days and she couldn't remember their schooling details- if they went, where they went and she seems to always tell me the same few random stories...over and over. Of course, I listen as if I haven't heard them before but the point is, when did her memories slip away. How does your brain decide what is valid to keep and what to throw away? What does that feel like? After these conversations I feel sad for her but sad also to know what may ultimately be coming for me.
I'm almost ashamed to say that I can't quite remember many childhood memories of my mom. She's a big part of my life and despite our ups and downs, she remains a major inspiration to me. I know that we had some good times when I a kid but why can't I remember them? I remember things about my dad, other people that I knew and my grandparents. Ah yes, my grandparents. Perhaps, the memories need to be stuck in your brain something significant like cantaloupes and orange juice. I would frequently visit my grandparents house and it seems that after my grandpa got his thrills with putting worms and snakes in my boots down in the garden and I was done tearing up the yard with the 4-wheeler it was time for the evening show complete with buttery popcorn in our own wooden bowls. My grandma would have already set up for the church communion for the morning service so then we'd all call it a night. She'd tuck me into the crisp white sheets with the fancy lace comforter and I'd be left in my small room looking at seashells from various vacation spots, old books, a newly purchased keyboard and random other objects from a lifetime of collecting. But in the morning, I was greeted without fail, a slice of cantaloupe and a small glass of orange juice. It was the sweetest, most succulent cantaloupe and always the best orange juice in a fancy nice glass. I was probably about 9 or 10 and I remember them and their fancy orange juice and cantaloupe like it was yesterday. If I'm lucky and get a sweet cantaloupe at the store, I'm instantly transported to my grandparents house and the memories I have there. Some of the best I have.
Here's to hoping that my memories are like cantaloupe and orange juice, for the rest of my life.
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