Thinking about Memories

Isn't thinking a wonderful thing? I find myself doing just that quite a bit lately. If I let myself, my thoughts wander to things of the past, memories almost forgotten. I also find myself in the present, thinking about ways to make memories for my loved ones. And then, just to keep myself from getting bored, I will allow my thinking to jump to the future, of dreams and hopes, always looking forward.

When my thoughts wander to the past, the first things that come to mind are family and friends. I don't remember, nor do I care to think about material things. Always people. That's me, I guess I'm just a people kind of person. Although, my thoughts do bring me to blueberries, and the Atlantic ocean, and roller skating, and shopping (there is always shopping in every thought). But even each of these brings a memory of someone dear.

Shopping - with my grandmother, affectionately known to everyone as Ma Gillard. How she loved to go to "the K-mart" on Friday nights! Before I left to pursue my own life, I spent a lot of time "shopping" with Ma. I can't ever remember her buying anything, but it was the highlight of her week to climb into my little Mustang Cobra and head to Sydney on Friday night. How many teenagers spend that kind of Friday night time with their grandma? Well...I wouldn't trade those moments for the entire world and so, I think about her often.

Blueberries - what can I say? It's almost a way of life in the summertime. But then there was the time that I had picked an entire roaster full (I used a roaster because I thought it would be easy to carry). It wasn't. I set it down and went to investigate a beautiful bush of berries that had just caught my eye. When I turned back, there was Pops, our loyal dog, eating the berries from the roaster. How he loved blueberries. But he liked them best when someone picked them for him.

The Atlantic ocean - I remember spending many, many moments standing on the cliff, just staring out over the Atlantic. My most vivid memory however, is the day I took my grandfather, Da Gillard to the hospital. As we pulled away from his house, he asked me to please stop the car for a minute. He got out of the car, and stood as close to the cliff as possible. He very carefully scanned the horizon of the Atlantic from his home, a scene I'm sure he wanted to impress into his memory forever. After a few minutes, he got back into the car and said, "I'm ready to go now." Da never came home again after that. When I have the opportunity to gaze out over the Atlantic, whenever I am home, I am brought back to that moment in time, and I can feel my grandfather standing beside me.

So many other memories also. I feel the need to start writing them down, to keep a journal of them. So this is my promise to myself, and to my children so that they will know who I was, who I am, and hopefully who I have yet to become.