Things I Remember
Sometimes memories fly from my mind like frightened birds finally set free.
I remember being young and giggley, skinny-legged and awkward, hair crazy with curls. Spending hours climbing trees, playing house, or riding bikes down Hillside Drive on my bike with my girlfriends in tow. I had Donny Osmond and David Cassidy posters on my pink-wallpapered walls and stuffed animals and dolls posed in their respective places on my chenille bedspread. I wore lace ruffled ankle socks and chewed my fingernails.
I remember lazy summer days with Barbie dolls, clothes and accessories spread out on our front brick patio. Games of hide and seek and Red-Rover-Red- Rover played long after dark, and hating to quit even after Mom called us in for the night.
I remember my mother pinning my Girl Scout pin on my little Brownie uniform as I stood proudly after crossing the little bridge at one of many ceremonies.
I remember posing in my First Communion dress, complete with white gloves and pearl-crowned veil, feeling as white, pure, and special as my dress.
I remember walking home from Fishburn Elementary with my brothers and sister after school every day, being careful to walk far enough away from them that people wouldn’t think we were related.
I remember filing into church every Sunday no matter what, and we took up half a pew! We made quite a line headed for Communion, tallest to smallest, solemn and with our hands folded together in prayer.
I remember my sister Jody and I sitting at our miniature table and chair set and serving each other invisible tea and cookies on little plastic plates, sipping noisily and with our pinky fingers mid-air and dainty- like.
I remember seeing fields of green and brown, old trees and ice rimming the lake, like crocheted lace. And apple trees heavy with fruit, maple leaves as red as tomatoes, and my breath a frosty cloud in the air while a sickle moon hung like a tree ornament in the purple sky.
I remember Dad pointing out a grey squirrel in our yard as he ran up a tree chasing another, and I remember him teaching me the names of all the trees. He pointed out and named for me all the clouds, spilled like popcorn in the sky as they floated by. I remember his voice like poured cream and him looking at me as if I were the gold he’d just turned up in a streambed…and I felt lucky.
I remember Christmases and cranberries, sugared and peanut butter-filled dates, bowls of nuts, a tree full of tinsel, a vintage angel on the top, the smell of ham or turkey cooking and Mom’s best china and crystal.
I remember snow gray afternoons and quilted fields, golden haystacks, the scent of burning wood and the crunch of leaves under my feet, black and white spotted cows grazing under canopies of trees, huge platters of delicious sweet corn glistening with melted butter.
I remember the smell of summer, sun buttered mornings, grass freshly mown and the sound of boat engines on the lake, tractors pulling loads of hay, raw black earth under my bare feet, running down hills as fast as I could, the wind’s warm breath kissing my cheek.
I remember Dad sitting in his recliner after dinner, a hole in the arm bulging guts of yellow foam, watching All In The Family or the Vikings playing football.
I remember the sky a darkest blue, sugared with tiny white stars and Daddy pointing out the constellations for me. I remember his croupy pick up truck and his thumb-printed eyeglasses, his flannel shirts and ever present hat, cigarettes in his shirt pocket and his boots worn and soft with age.
I remember the pearly sun on the shortest of winter days, the outside cloaked with the quiet of new snowfall and the smell of supper floating through the air, and of setting the table every night with plates, silverware and napkins, and pouring milk for everyone.
But more than all that……..
I remember being tucked in at bedtime
Every night
Starless or sugared
Blue or grey
Quiet or windy
A houseful
Or just us two;
Me in my favorite flannel nightgown,
my mother bending over my bed
to kiss me goodnight
her love surrounding me like a scent.
I don’t remember when that stopped, only that it did.
And I’ve missed it ever since.
Richard and I went to the beach Saturday afternoon to beach comb before going to a cocktail party at a beautiful oceanfront home down the road a bit later...it was a beautiful evening with the cool sand under our bare feet, a nice breeze, mostly isolated beach occupied only by shore birds and one lone fisherman. Richard scoured for shark teeth and I went in search of my mermaid tears, or colored sea glass. I found four pieces--two very worn, frosty white pieces and two jagged pieces of amber. I picked up odd bits of shells, an osprey feather...and took about 150 pictures. It was a peaceful 90 minutes. To top off a wonderful evening, we stopped in at our friend's party and was met at the door with a silver platter of delicious treats. The bar was set up on the oceanfront deck and it rivaled any I'd seen, even in nightclubs! The food was wonderful and so were the luscious cocktails. We met a few nice couples and enjoyed lively conversations while drinking in a beautiful sunset over the water, the roar of the ocean our only music. Quite the perfect evening. Though I didn't take any pictures at the party, here are a few from our walk on the beach. --Lori
