Well, its official- we live together. Technically we have lived together for about two months now but not until this morning did it become official. Want to know how I know? We are mid shampoo fight. Fight meaning rather that be apologized and I’m ignoring him. Yep the age old fight over household objects. When your fights switch from being about his questioning antics and curious past to not remembering to tell me we were out of shampoo mid shower. The classic shift most couples unknowingly slide through like a quiet avalanche when they venture to that “move in” phase. Where you don’t so much fight about what he did last Friday night (on account that you now know) but fall much closer to “why didn’t you tell me we were out of shampoo?” Don’t get me wrong living together has its perks. I have my partner in crime and best friend there to catch me when I fall both physically and metaphorically speaking and someone there to spend Sunday mornings in bed with and someone to help me carry my groceries. But today there was a change, a shift, a cross over into the next step in our relationship. And, to be quite honest I’m partially scared shitless and partially excited. We made it this far. Over three years together and a couple months of living together is much longer than most people get. Who knows what happens from here all I know is I’m ready to find out. Hopefully its still filled with love letters and flowers with the occasional ‘now tell me you didn’t forget the paper towels again did you?’
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.