Have you ever wondered why you remember little tiny details from your life, usually lasting only a few moments and that seem to hold no real value? Because, if you are like me, I cant seem to remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, was it toast or, maybe cheerios. I mean its rather clear why I can graphically recall flipping over my handlebars and skidding down the drive way at the ripe age of four or the moment when I was eleven and my mother sat us down to tell us she had cancer, but what about the tiny, seemingly random moments that you can not seem to forget. Why do I remember being six and my brother being three and “riding” our magic carpets (our blankies laying on the floor of my childhood house). Why do I perfectly recall sitting in the passenger seat of my grandparents old, roughly worn truck seat and singing a christmas song with my grandfather. Its so clear that I can picture sitting there, my small hands covered in white mittens and riding the smooth country road to his house. Why do I recount the smell of buttery popcorn being made on the stove of our tiny house. I can see my beautiful mother standing there telling us it’s almost ready and her laughing about a joke that has drifted along with my memory. Why can I see myself riding down the block, wind in my hair, pink handlebars and all, on my way to my very best childhood friends house. Why do I remember laying in the backyard, the sun hitting us just right as my brother and I lay in the warm green grass. These random things I can not forget. Will they show me something about myself in the future, did I do something life changing without knowing, will I be shown these moments five people you meet in heaven style. Maybe we all remember these tiny moments because, while they were small, they were perfect. Maybe we felt an enormous amount of love, or happiness, or just flat out joy. As I grow older I cant think of a better afternoon than laying in the grass with my brother, and what I wouldn’t give to be sitting in that cold, old truck with my warm, perfect grandfather. Memories are all we have, as we get older. People leave us, you move away from home, and the world never ceases to change. Memories are what ground us, what inspire us and what makes us feel at home. While most are random and seem to hold no true value, if you think about it, most of these memories are perfect. Simple, short, and perfect.
In honor of one of my favorite weeks of the year, shark week that is 😉