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Posts Tagged ‘memories’

The over-sized black dog is curled up in the corner, gently snoring on her fluffy, white bed while a black calico cat rests on the tattered quilt at the feet of the woman of the house. The gentle squeak of a computer chair is heard from the living room, the tap, tap of the ever busy keyboard, the hum of a computer monitor, and the soft singing of a young woman occupy the air. Another cat lets out its meek meow as it beckons for attention, hoping to find either its mother or the young woman at the computer. The turtle tank gurgles from a distant bedroom, an airplane rumbles by, and another dog barks in the distance.

These are the sounds of the night. Occasionally the house will creak or even pop causing momentary tension amongst the ladies, but for the most part, the night is serene. The blackness outside is kept at bay by the iridescent lights from within. Soon, it will change.

The young lady will grow weary and turn off the computer. Enervation will overcome the older woman. Lights will turn to darkness with a mere flip of a switch. As slumber overtakes the house guests, the noises will obliterate. It is at this time that the cats will remember that they are nocturnal creatures and with an abrupt burst through the house, they will leap onto the fireplace to begin their aeronautics. Mid-flight, an ornament will be procured so that fowl play may begin.

The felines run through the house, batting the ornament to and fro. This is easily accomplished on the wooden floors, as is sliding into walls and each other. With a moan, the woman wakes up and listens. She knows what awaits the night, but is optimistic that merely being awake will settle the cats. Of course, this is only false hope and she will reluctantly drag herself out of bed, a hunter on the prowl. The cats, suddenly feigning innocence, flop onto the floor in a humble position hoping the woman will pet them and head back to bed. She does stoop down to give each cat a rub and a gentle chide, but her mission is not diverted. She will find that ornament.

To the woman’s dismay, the small gray cat has placed herself upon the ornament in every attempt to hide her treasure. With a slight laugh, the woman reaches out and takes the ornament. She glances at the tree, the naked bottom half, stripped of its ornaments and Christmas joy, and knows placing the ornament back on the tree is senseless. She places it in a box instead. Inside that box are the other ornaments gathered throughout the season, treasures of the felines. With this, she turns off the hall light and heads back to her room, stopping to admire the tree once more. She notices that it is leaning to the right, slightly more than the day before, and slightly more than the day before that. If the tree isn’t straightened soon, it will fall over. Knowing this, the woman walks away with a smirk for these are the memories of the 2009 Christmas season.

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Life in the 70s was good. Times were fairly simple. We left the doors unlocked, children played outside without worry, and most of us attended church. On this Sunday morning, my brother, his best friend, Jeff, my parents, and myself had all just crawled into our large, brown Chevy Impala. We were headed to church where we were sure to hear lessons on repentance, the ten commandments, and salvation. We hadn’t gotten far when my parents noticed the neighborhood watch sign which happened to have a green bike hanging from it. Laughing from the irony of it all, I watched as my parents’ laughter was slowly replaced by a silence as they turned to look at each other. As their eyes met, realization dawned and the car soon roared with the shouts of, “Randy! Jeff! You didn’t?!” 

The car came to a screeching halt. My brother, Randy, and Jeff were required to remove the bike and return it to the neighbor, but boy does that memory cause laughter. I do not remember the punishment that my brother received. I am sure that he was grounded for a period of time and had to perform some type of penance towards the neighbor. I am also sure that my parents laughed to no end when they went to bed that night and that Randy and Jeff found that little prank worth every ounce of the suffering that they paid. Those boys sure knew how to have fun!

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Last week was a rough week and this year in general has been a rough year beginning in April of 2008 and continuing on. I hope things will start looking up. The positive is that things are not nearly as bad as they once were. I have quite a story to share and the reality is, I don’t think anyone really knows my story. Many know bits and pieces, but I am hard pressed to think of anyone who knows it all. I wonder if one of these days I will finally have someone to share my life with. The sad thing is, I truly doubt it. How do we end up where we are? I simply do not know. 

The picture on the top of my page flashes me back to a simpler time. I don’t know how I managed to find it for it is a nameless bridge from my memories, a bridge from my childhood. I grew up in Idaho and we found ourselves driving over this bridge many times; camping adventures, Sunday drives, day trips here and there. I don’t know what it is about that bridge that makes my heart ache so much, but it does. 

When my daughter first saw the picture, she told me that it was ugly and I needed to change it. I briefly explained that it had meaning to me and that was the end of the conversation. Somehow, her words tore at me as if she were telling me that my childhood was ugly. Funny how the most innocent statements can cut so deeply. 

I find myself longing for those simpler times a lot lately. My first love, ice sculptures in McCall, youth group. More than wanting to revisit those times, I wish that I could introduce my children to the innocence of that life. I was by no means innocent or perfect, but my life was so much easier than the life that my children have been dealt. Maybe the truth is the mere fact that I have had to grow up and in growing up, we lose the innocence, our perspective changes, and we see what is really around us. Could it be that “easy”?

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