(no subject)
Day 3, Saturday. A treasured memory
There's a lot to choose from. I don't think I have that many from Long Long Ago - my brain cells just don't store them as much. But there are bits and pieces, fragments lying around, that still leave their indelible mark upon me.
Let's unearth a few, shall we?
My grandmother's cabin. I don't remember detail, even. Just flashes. Being excited to go there. The new set of toys that I played with only when we were there. Walking to the beach. The stairs to get to the beach.
When my cat, Bitsy, curled up on my knee when she was just a kitten, to purr herself to sleep, and how my heart absolutely jumped when my aunt and her husband said they were going to give her to me as a birthday present.
Kissing a friend under a warm summer rain. A movie director couldn't have done it better. Rain, touch, sensation, gentle, week-kneed.
Buying my first car, with my poor exhausted step-father, who had been working 3rd shift at the time. I remember him in stark detail from that morning, and I remember seeing the car and writing the check. (I suppose this memory should be filed under bittersweet, as he died within the next week - but it is treasured for its clarity.)
The first screaming, yelling, shouting-in-front-of-a-bar fight with The Beau. Because that fight is when we really learned how much we loved each other, and how much that wasn't going to change. Laughing in the middle of the shouting. Reaching that understanding of love, and that just because we yelled a little, that didn't change a thing.
There's a lot to choose from. I don't think I have that many from Long Long Ago - my brain cells just don't store them as much. But there are bits and pieces, fragments lying around, that still leave their indelible mark upon me.
Let's unearth a few, shall we?
My grandmother's cabin. I don't remember detail, even. Just flashes. Being excited to go there. The new set of toys that I played with only when we were there. Walking to the beach. The stairs to get to the beach.
When my cat, Bitsy, curled up on my knee when she was just a kitten, to purr herself to sleep, and how my heart absolutely jumped when my aunt and her husband said they were going to give her to me as a birthday present.
Kissing a friend under a warm summer rain. A movie director couldn't have done it better. Rain, touch, sensation, gentle, week-kneed.
Buying my first car, with my poor exhausted step-father, who had been working 3rd shift at the time. I remember him in stark detail from that morning, and I remember seeing the car and writing the check. (I suppose this memory should be filed under bittersweet, as he died within the next week - but it is treasured for its clarity.)
The first screaming, yelling, shouting-in-front-of-a-bar fight with The Beau. Because that fight is when we really learned how much we loved each other, and how much that wasn't going to change. Laughing in the middle of the shouting. Reaching that understanding of love, and that just because we yelled a little, that didn't change a thing.