Road Trip

Sometimes, for no apparent reason, we take an unexpected road trip down memory lane. Now, depending on where your memories lead you, this can be good or bad. It is interesting to think about what triggers one of these excursions. It might be a passage from a good book. Or, it could be the way a breeze causes curtains to flutter while sunlight filters through in muted patterns. Maybe it's a line from an old song, or a gathering of friends and family while thinking about days gone by and loved ones lost.

Whatever the reason, memories are a mixed blessing. While my short term memory is admittedly less than ideal, my long term memory is bright and I have what sometimes seems like total recall of every minute detail since very early childhood. Why do I remember exactly what an Otter Pop tastes like (when I haven't had one in over thirty years), but I can never find my keys? How can it be that I recall with vivid detail my mother's silver pumps and purse, the texture, the scent of leather, the satin lining with absolute recall? I wore those shoes and carried the purse on my scrawny little arm with nothing else on but a pair of flowered panties and a smile while I paraded up and down the sidewalk in front of our house when I was five (at dawn's first light no less). We lived in California then (one of several moves there) and the sun was shining brightly. I also remember I was supposed to be cleaning my mess of a room that day. Not only that, but I can see just as clear as day the look on Mom's face when she found me outside in all my..ahem...glory. Boy was she embarrassed! She hustled me in the house so fast it was like the midnight scene in Cinderella's ball - one shoe on and one shoe forlornly teetering on the edge of the steps to the house, left behind in haste. Alas, Prince Charming never came to bring that shoe back and find me as the perfect fit. But that's a story for another day.

Ahhh, memories. Those little snippets of time we like to occasionally re-visit. Sometimes memories are all we have left of a person or place in time. Loved ones who have gone on to the next life can remain with us as long as we remember. Memories of my mother are my most precious possession. There was no one like her and there will never be another. The things I can recall about Mom are too numerous to mention, but delightful to delve into on a rather regular basis. Sometimes I dream about her. My dreams are particularly vivid. I recall smells and colors and minute details that make them seem so real. As much as I might not want to admit this, there have been several occasions where dreams were as ordinary as Mom and I having a conversation while sipping iced tea on a well worn couch. The not wanting to admit part comes in when I confess that it can take as long as several hours later for me to realize it was just a dream and not something that happened just yesterday. I have went so far as to reach for the phone to call her and discuss something else, when the forceful blow of reality hits and I realize that it was a dream - that she is nowhere that I can reach by phone. Then the pain of her passing hits me all over again as if it just happened. My feelings are mixed and bittersweet about instances such as those. One the one hand, for a few precious moments, I have my mother back, alive, and reachable. On the other hand, the carefully constructed scab of numbness gets ripped open and the wound becomes fresh again. Still, I cherish whatever I can still have with my mother, real or not.

Memories often bind a family together. Generation gaps can be bridged with the juicy tale of Grandma's ride on one of the first Harleys made. The image alone, while looking at that demure, cookie-wielding senior citizen is enough to capture the fancy of the most cynical teenage imagination. I know, I've been there. Sweet memories also bring back a child now fully grown. A first smile, first word, first step, first sentence....any one of these can bring back times that seem so long ago. What mother doesn't love that baby powder, baby lotion smell? It sure beats stinky socks in a gym bag! When times get tough and your teenager suddenly seems like he's from another planet, one in which civility was never learned and breaking your mother's heart is the standard, memories are sweet relief from the realities of the day. I often wonder if the mistakes I made (and there were many) as a daughter are coming back to haunt me as I struggle in my relationship with my wayward son. It might sound like a silly thought, but I truly do wonder at times. Each time I feel that pang of dismay at something my son has said or done, I think of things I did to my own mother and wonder if she felt the same. And the thought that she did breaks my heart. I guess that is what comes with being a parent.

The last time I spoke with my mother, I apologized for not being better. I cried as I lay with her on her bed and thought of all the things I wished I could take back or could have done differently. I did make a lot of mistakes. I burned a lot of bridges, but Mom always forgave me with open arms and a big warm hug. Her last words to me? "You were a good daughter", said with a smile and a pat of my hands with her frail ones. That's another memory I'll never forget.

All in all I think memories are a good thing, even the bad ones. We would never know how far we've come or what lessons we've learned if it weren't for them. The thought of all the things I've gone through, endured, and survived is pretty mind blowing. The fact that I am still here sometimes amazes me. Thank you, memory. Thank you for being an old friend (and sometimes foe). Thank you for letting me visit with people long gone. Thank you for letting me be a child again whenever I want. And thank you for sometimes altering just the slightest bit, to make things a little better than they might really have been. Those kinds of memories are the road trip I like to take best. It doesn't matter how broke you are, you can always afford the journey. Baggage...optional. It's a destination vacation of the sweetest kind. In fact I think I'm leaving right now. I'll let you know when I get back.