Let the Memory Live Again

We all have them. No matter how much you try to escape, run, or hide, they don't go away. Some make us smile, some make us cry, some make us wistful and some just make us wince. No, I am not talking about Mothers, I am talking about memories.

The other day, my Dad brought over a box of books. The Disney series with read along record. Of course, there were more, but the Disney series made me pause--take the needle off the record. I have so many memories of these books. I had no idea my Dad still had them. I am now hoping to find a record player (hey, I still have Thriller on vinyl, back off, it's a good purchase...like you don't have your 8 track tapes...).

The nostalgia that books from my childhood could instantly cause, got me thinking. What other memories do I have that are instantly brought back...just a few from the last few days...

• The Florescent Light over my Kitchen Counter: Tati (my Dad's Father), who would watch tv and have a snack over the counter, with a florescent counter light on. Perhaps he only did this when my brother and I were visiting, so he could watch us in the other room, but I remember it none-the-less.
  
• Waffle Irons: Nana (my Mom's Grandma) used to make the best waffles using an old waffle iron. Coincidentally a waffle iron was one of the first things I asked for when I had my first apartment. I still have the one my Grandma (Nana's daughter) bought me.
• Matilda: a good friend from college and all our fun times together, I wish we still lived down the hall from one another many times each day. There are so many other things that cause me to think of her as well (Friends, Marlboro Lights, The Go-Gos, Dawson Creek, the list goes on and on)

Of course, there are numerous memories that we all have that will instantly bring a smile to our face, make us laugh, or make us pick up the phone (ok, now-a-days text) a good friend. But there are many that will make us sad or make us angry.

• I can't pass a certain rapid station on the West Side without remembering a student I read to in my early 20s. I often wonder where that little 2nd grader is today. I wonder what the me of today would have said to her drunk mother on the rapid had I been there instead of the 22 year old me.
• After a bad break up, it was a few years before I could return to my college without sadness or a sickening memory. Now, this seems ludicrous to me.

It occurs to me as I type this, that memories are both wonderful and dangerous. They are what makes us who we are and what can tear us apart.

IF we let them...This reminds me of a religion lesson in school regarding freewill. Freewill was how good and evil was explained, how we can love a God, who isn't always nice. Plagues anyone? I can let memories cause me to smile or I can let them cause me to cry. The choice is mine. What I chose will determine not only my mood for that minute, hour, day, but how I move forward or how I stay stagnant.

Staying still is boring...I chose to move forward.