Thursday, November 29, 2007

I can dream of the old was beautiful then

I was thinking about the way memories work and how they can be tied to senses. You know how some memories are just a sound or a smell or a picture? Then others can be like watching a short video. I have one particular and cherished memory that I've played over and over in my head for almost as long as I can remember. Wanna hear? OK, I was a young boy of maybe six or seven. It was a spring day and I'd just walked home from school with my friends from the block. I know I did that, but the details of that really aren't there. Here's where it gets vivid. I ran into the kitchen because Mom was there and she had all the windows thrown open while she was cleaning. A cool breeze was making the sheer curtains dance away from the windows, the sunshine was glowing in, and there she stood in jeans and a button down shirt tied at the waist, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She gave me her smile and asked me how my day was going. I can remember my little boy self thinking she was just the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

I've often wondered why it's THAT day or THAT time I remember. Was that such a special moment because it rarely happened or just because I've thought about it over and over all these years? Over thirty years later and it can still make me feel warm and comforted. I just realized that she was years younger than I am now.


jason said...

this was just beautiful.

Michael said...

Thanks, brotha.

I was SO happy, and then I had a peanut butter and Tollhouse morsel sandwich. As one does.