I went to visit with my folks and sister when the subject of memories came up. Well, I actually brought it up because I was struggling with remembering memories from my childhood. I figured I should have a play-by-play movie recorded in my brain, just like everyone else. I mean they had complete stories about a single subject, but all I have are jumbled up memories with no clarity of when and where they took place.
It reminds me of the remake of “Lost in Space” where Penny was recording things she was going to miss when she left Earth. “Popcorn, friends, first kiss “etc. That is how I remember things when I was young. Peewee marble up my nose, bee sting on my arm, playing with worms, sliding down ice plant and playing red rover. These scenes pop up in my head, leading me to ponder the when and where. I guess I should clarify that being military I moved every year, which I feel, contributed to my dilemma.
My sons grew up in one town, lived in the same house and went to the same schools. Their memories are more succinct than mine are. While visiting with my parents, we questioned each other about certain memories, which reminded me of ‘The Remember When’ game. My sister talked about getting a bicycle for Christmas then she asked me “Remember when you learned to ride a bike in Germany?” A snippet of a huge bicycle snapped into my brain. I was so small I had to stand up and pump the pedals and the seat bumped me at the base of my neck. The handlebars were right below my eyesight.
 My mother could remember when she was six months old and my earliest memory was the peewee marble up my nose. A doctor had to use forceps to retrieve my sister’s marble. I know, what in the world made me do that? I was only two so I did what any two year old would do I experimented with a facial orifice. I already knew about my mouth.
When songs that I sang when I was little, like ‘You are my sunshine, and I’ve been working on the railroad or She’ll be coming around the mountain, come to mind, I remember the times we rode in a car traveling from one base to another across the United States. So more snippets of views from the car window mess with my memories. Where was I going? What year did I see that?
By third grade, my memories were a bit longer than a snippet. My husband said snippets pop in his head then it grows legs. I guess these from third grade and later on have small tiny legs. I hope with contemplation and determination mine will grow so lovely long ones.
One of my funniest memories was when my first son was born and I was appalled that he didn’t have any clothes on. Maybe I shouldn’t have shared that one because ya’ll might be thinkin’ I’m crazy, but honest to goodness that was my thought for a split second. Then they whisked him away to the prenatal unit.
How do people write memoirs? How do they get a full-length story, and do their memories have longer legs than just snippets? On a sad note, my brother-in-law is ill with a triple whammy. Cancer, dementia and Alzheimer’s. Life’s too short to put off writing my memories, so I have decided to start with my snippets. I want to leave something for my sons, and hope they have long enough legs to make sense.

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