Wednesday, July 11


I sometimes wonder what my children will remember when they get old, like me.  Because 35 is just so, so ancient.  You know, compared to 34.  Or 30.  It's kind of a shock, actually, but I'm off track.

I used to think I would remember so many things.  The color of my favorite dress, perhaps.  The deserty smell of Tucson (not to be confused with the desserty smell of Thanksgiving pie).  The names of my very best (for the moment) friends.  The little moments of childhood that seemed so large and important.

But I don't remember much of it at all.  Little glimpses of the past, so tiny they often feel unreal.  In fact, I don't really even remember the early days of motherhood - Josh's first laugh, for example.  So important at the time, and now lost in the dusty folds of memory.  I remember moments, tiny little moments, and not much else.  I remember feelings, but mostly those feelings are overtaken by the feelings of today.  Regret for my actions.  Wonder.  Amusement.  Disappointment.  They wash out all the colors of the memory and leave a hazy pit in my stomach instead. 

That seems like a strange way to put it, but I don't know how else to describe it. 

There was a time when I thought I would remember everything.  But somewhere along the line I stopped paying so much attention.  The present always shoves its way in, intruding on the past and pushing it away.

I wonder, just now, if Carly will remember her day today.  (I am sure she probably won't, if my own memories are any indication.)  She woke up early (compared to me anyhow), practiced piano, and watched Garfield (her current favorite Netflix indulgence).  She was waiting for me when I finally rolled out of bed, she had her little black and white polka-dotted piano lesson book bag slung over her shoulder.  She was wearing a pair of black shoes that hurt her feet, but I didn't make her change because I wasn't interested in the battle.  We drove to piano lessons and she slept the whole way, her head lolling in the sun on the car seat.  Despite practicing barely 3 days out of 14, she did just fine at her piano lesson and then we went shopping at Hobby Lobby.  She wasn't very patient while I picked out fabric.  She wanted to know what it was for, but I wouldn't tell her because it's (hopefully) going to be Barbie doll clothes.  If I can do it.  She wasn't too thrilled with waiting for the fabric to be cut.  And she was hungry.  She wanted to eat RIGHT NOW, but she survived the wait.  I took her to Panda Express because she lost her first tooth, but I didn't let her eat until we got home.  On the way home she decided she wouldn't wear those black shoes again, thank goodness, and when we got home she decided her orange chicken was a little too spicey today.  She went out to visit friends with her dad.  And she got to ride a horse (without even a saddle).  She was very excited.  Then dad took her to the store (for ice cream).  She changed into a leotard.  Because that's what she wanted to wear for pajamas tonight.  And now she is sleeping. 

And I bet she won't remember any of it.  But I hope, like me, she remembers she was happy.

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