I have a brain full of memories. Some are happy, some are sad. Some of them are trying to get lost the older I get. It gets harder and harder to pull them out and remember all of the details. Cherished memories from my childhood and younger adult years are being bullied by newer memories…….”You’re in my space!”…….”Get LOST!”……”She doesn’t need you anymore!”…..and the list goes on. No, I don’t have the onset of dementia. I just have a 66 year old brain with 66 years of memories.
Even though I get frustrated sometimes when my memories are fuzzy, my brain is trying to make them crystal clear. It has a team of five, busy all the time, sending messages back to tell it which memory to pull out next.
My memory champions are see, smell, hear, touch, taste. We learn about the five senses in elementary school to help us connect with the world around us. Now they are stepping up their game to help me reconnect with memories that I thought were long forgotten. Memories come at me from all directions in whatever environment I happen to be in at the time.
Stepping out in to the crisp, clean air with the smell of pines the first thing in the morning. Walking on a western town’s boardwalk. Listening to the river going by. Looking at the rocks at the bottom of a clear mountain stream. The smell of a canvas tent in the heat of the afternoon. Summer vacation.
Hot humid summer nights. Felling freshly pressed cotton. The scent of bath powder. Watching fireflies and listening to the frogs and crickets. A breeze coming through an open window. Sounds from a nighttime baseball game. Seeing an old army cot. Summer nights.
Examining handmade doll clothes. Finding a pretty cup and saucer. Eating Campbell’s chicken soup. Children buying grocery store toys and coloring books. Teen magazines. Saltine crackers with white icing. A mid century divan. Pneumonia.
Little snakes in interesting places. Fishing poles and red and white bobbers. Eating pan fried fish. Roasting hot dogs on a stick. Climbing rocks. A country car ride. State Lakes.
I could write a book. Nothing concrete, just memory jolters here and there. I never know when one is going to pop up. They just do and I smile and hold onto them until they settle back into the pool of memories ready to pop back up when needed.
And they are my happy thoughts.