Five Minute Friday: Remember

Please be sure to visit the Gypsy Mama to play along!

This week's prompt is: Remember.
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I want to remember. I do. I want to remember the good things and forget the bad things. My wiring is off because I remember the bad and it crowds out the good. I want to remember the special moments, the voices of my grandparents, more than a snippet here and there of the forty-six years that I've been on this earth. I want to remember so that they can know more about their mama than what they see before them. I want them to know about those in our family's past so that they can carry the stories forward to their own children. I want to remember what home in the country smelled like outside, in the woods, by the creek all those years ago as I zoomed by on my bicycle.

I remember the Dove soap in grandma's bathroom and the SeaBreeze and water boiling at Aunt Mae's house, but I don't remember the feel of their hands as they held mine. I don't remember why I was on the porch at Aunt Ollie's house the day the picture was taken. I remember the taste of Granny's dressing and wish I could have that again. Thanksgiving will never be the same without her.

I don't remember the doctor visit that happened on the day that my bike split apart and split me open. I've read the record of it, but have nothing in my memory banks to support that record. It makes me wonder what other things I don't remember. I also get stuck wondering if I am not remembering things because there's something wrong with me or am I not remember some of the things because they never really happened for me to remember. Maybe those sharing these events with me are the ones with the faulty memory. I don't know.

Two things that I do remember happened on our wedding day. I remember spilling hot wax down the front of my dress as we went up to light the unity candle and I remember running around to the back of the church and getting into my in-law's car instead of getting into the car that was decorated for our "escape". I made it to the door of the decorated car and turned and ran the other way. My in-laws rode in the decorated car to the reception.

I remember that letter, announcing the impending visit from David, waiting for me in our mailbox when I got home from school. It said that he would be there about the time that I got the letter and he was. I was breathless!

And I had a wet head. :)