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Monday, April 17, 2017

The Art of Memories.



Sitting on the sideline watching the other kids playing soccer, wondering why I feel so alone. This sense of detachment from those around me. Wishing I could be more like them, be able to fit in better. Yet in a way glad that I’m different because it makes people remember me.

Then you have those rare occasions when you meet someone that just seems to click on your wave length. It’s like they speak your dialect in your alien tongue. For a moment in time you move in rhythm with someone else in this big old world. You can open a small window into what makes you… well you.

Then one day you blink, and they are walking out a door; waving goodbye but leaving an indelible mark on your soul. As you get older, the marks become tallies, and the list of memories fade with each new encounter. All it takes is a smell, a song, a remembered laugh to bring it rushing back to the forefront. What comes back with it, is what you remember.

 The feeling of the sun shining on your short clad legs. The way the t-shirt you were wearing didn’t fit you just right. The sound of the kids laughing as they played the game. The smell of the chocolate chip cookies you were snacking on with your best friend. Or the way the white puffy clouds moved across a cerulean blue sky, with the evergreens reaching up, as if to catch them as they floated by.


You remember every nuance of the day, letting the images play in your head. A slight smile forms on your lips. You are transported. These are the moments we look forward to in our ever-busy life. It is a chance to just stop, and take a moment to slip back to a far simpler time. A time when you aren’t working against a time line, a schedule, or just the chaos of everyday life. The moments that are created don’t end with childhood, but it seems like they grow further apart. You try to grasp at those happy moments, sometimes even the sad. You study the moment and work at etching it on your mind.


That way when you take it out later. The sights, sounds, smells, even the taste lets you slip back to cherish what you hold dear. Oh, I almost forgot touch. Yes, touch can bring back memories in addition to all the other senses. Have you ever eaten at a new place? Do you remember how the food tasted, how the spices swirled around on your tongue? The aromas that wafted from the kitchen to welcome you inside. How you remember the feel of the weave of the table cloth under your fingers. I have a couple of places that as happened at. To this day all I need do is think of an old pizza place back home in Illinois, and it is like I am right back there, waiting anxiously for their signature stuffed pizza.

I began this blog post a few months ago, but never got around to finishing it today. As I was reading through my blog draft folder, I started reading it, and it just spoke to me that today was the day for it to be read. Truth be told I can’t even remember what it was that inspired me to write it. Maybe it was just as I’ve been describing. A smell, taste, sight, touch, or sound was powerful enough to provoke inspiration in me. I may never know but I do know that now I have written this, that once you read, your own memories will flash through your mind.

As I am closing out this post I want you to ponder on what I have written. Take a trip down memory lane. Then go out and make some brand-new ones. I hope you had a blessed Easter, if you celebrated it. If not I hope your day was blessed just the same. As always love fully, and laugh often.



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