Memories are made up of not just people and places, but of objects, music, smells, tastes, and yes, even emotions.
I remember lots of things, as if they had just happened days ago; We all do…Some of them are very significant to me, like my wedding proposal, the very start of my wedding day, finding out I was pregnant, telling my husband we were expecting, and his reaction. The many celebrations, losses, vacations, reunions, rites of passage, being on stage performing, and so much more.
I have other memories too, not nearly as significant, like my first dirty martini, who introduced me to it, and how I didn’t like it at all, but felt obligated to finish it, because it was bought for me by my, then, boyfriend’s parents, who had finally, taken us out to dinner, after repeatedly taking out his older brother and his girlfriend, many times, and then, finally, taking us. I remember trying sushi for the very first time, at someone’s wedding, though I don’t recall whom’s. My husband’s coworker urged me to try it…”just put the piece in your mouth, swallow it, don’t respond for a few seconds, and then tell me what you thought”. I remember doing precisely that, and then thinking, it really wasn’t bad, and I liked the aftertaste of it. I remember walking on the boardwalk down the shore, in the evening, as a teenager… sunburned, after a long day of laying on the beach, and wearing a sweatshirt because of the cool air, and thinking how wonderful a night could be, and then similarly, at camp as a kid, and “up in the country” in Woodbourne, during the summer … another sweatshirt, a campfire, and cool evening air. I remember a family car ride and trip, visiting Lancaster, PA; maybe I was 8, or 9, and eating fresh bread and apple butter in a motel, dinner at a family style restaurant, and then being allowed to purchase a bonnet, much like Laura Ingalls Wilder wore in the books that I just couldn’t get enough of, or the series, that pushed my bedtime past 8:30 pm on the night it was on, just as long as my homework had been done without being asked to do so. I remember going to a movie with a friend, by bus, at 14 or 15, and the Farrell’s ice cream parlor afterwards for a fudge mint marvel. I remember making spaghetti with that same friend, and marshmallow Kristy treats too. And, years later, being in the Carribean, for the very first time, on my honeymoon, walking along the water’s edge, hand in hand, after dinner…the sand cool to my feet and between my toes, when it had been so very hot only hours earlier. And then, as well, the beaches in South Carolina, first with our two pomeranians, and then, with a toddler, who didn’t like walking on “the ouchies”, and then our little family; neon colored leashes, colorful sand toys, and red, white, and blue swimsuits. I’ve gone places with my immediate family, and then, more places with the family we created, and all of the shovels, sand pails, sharks teeth, ice cream, pancakes, hushpuppies, sandy towels and kites that were a part of those trips– holidays spent at home, the foods, the preparation and table setting, the adding and moving of chairs to accommodate more people, the smells wafting from the kitchen, and the laughter from the living room while i washed things in the kitchen sink.
There are “tinier” memories that are, sort of, flashes of light, in my mind, that catch me, quite off guard, in a fleeting moment of time… a recognizable item of clothing, a familiar scent of cologne, a habiscus flower, the scent of coconut tanning spray, chapstick, a yellow backhoe or “digger”, a sign for sod, or for The Fort McHenry Tunnel, and, even still, a bottle of Cupcake wine, or, specifically, a button down, purple shirt. These tinier memories are the ones that startle my equalibrium, force me to draw in breath, and require me to recalibrate and realign myself. I’ve been determined to reinvent them… no, not to dismiss them, or even lose their meaning, but, rather, to recreate them as a part of my homeostasis. I fell into this theory organically, and realized how it calmed and soothed me therafter. I knew, instantly, that this was the next step in my journey. Until then, I didn’t realize that I was, subconsciously, or, maybe even consciously, avoiding these scenarios, much like avoiding the area in which a car accident has occurred, even if no one was hurt or it wasn’t even a big deal. Our minds replay things, over and over again, in order to make sense of them, and to learn from them, but, sometimes it’s easier to draw from our flight response, and, on automatic pilot, we do.
I drive by so many familiar places, even though I no longer live in the same town that I had lived in for over 20 years. There are places there that I am still connected to there, for my healthcare, and for other things nearby. Still others, I am no longer connected to, and it makes me unsettled passing by. No longer residing there often makes me feel like I am trespassing in a place that I no longer fit in, or, that I am stuck in a time warp of sorts. Life is like that when we move on or physically, move. Nonetheless, not wanting to feel that way, I needed to “change it up”. Having found myself in my previous supermarket of choice, looking for something not carried anywhere else, I chose to just walk around, taking it all in. The store had been completely reorganized, and things were in very different places. This ended up being more helpful than I thought. Though, unfamiliar with the new layout, it wasn’t as much of a reminder or a discomfort for me. In fact, it was like breathing newly oxygenated air. I decided to peruse the store, picked up several things they had never carried before, and checked out, content with my new haul and new outlook. It became a place, not to be avoided, but rather to be newly explored and returned to for the things I hadn’t purchased there before. If I could apply this skill here, maybe there was hope for other places as well. So, onward I went, over some time, visiting places in the area to attempt the same outcome. With practice, comes skill, and as I succeeded in this, I made plans to up the ante and challenge myself along the way.
The big one for me, was a 12 hour drive to South Carolina, having made this trip as a family soooo many times over the years as a family, but to go it alone. I knew it wasnt going to be easy, having driven to Florida the year before last, and being tearful and quiet throughout the drive through the state of South Carolina. It was not an easy crossing and I knew it would be challenging going it alone, but that’s the thing, right?! Sometimes, you just NEED to do some things alone…. The opportunity presented itself, weeks before I had planned on it, and so, I packed up and hit the road. Music has a way of soothing the soul, in a “whistle while you work” kind of way, and this was no different. I listened to music that was mine alone; There was no one to debate or argue with otherwise, and no stack of CDs to rummage through to do so. I listened to anything I could tune into, until I couldn’t do so anymore, and then played everything on my iPod, from Broadway show tunes, to country music, and tap tunes and ballet exercises. This was unlike anything I had driven to before, having no one to please musically, besides myself. In fact, I stopped only for gas and use of the bathroom, and felt a freedom I hadn’t felt before. The trip, itself, is a whole other blog (see Go Alone 2.0) but there were numerous “reinventions” everywhere I went, and, upon returning home as well. It was very freeing, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’ve continued to “reinvent the wheel” since I’ve been back…movie theatres, beach days, boardwalk nights, and even ice cream flavors, amping trips, sweatshirts, meals, and here’s the clincher, even people. I’ve learned that you CAN do the same things, but the results CAN also be different. Allowing the road to lead you, as long as you are open to the journey, either alone, or in different company, pleasant surprises are possible. And, isn’t it time to reinvent ourselves anyway?
“You cannot erase memories, but you can let go of the heavy energy that is attached to them.” –Yung Pueblo
Cloves of Carolyn 