I have been feeling rather inspired lately, the topic of interest being just this: memory. The truth is, I have hesitated in writing because I worry that my combinations of words and ideas couldn’t possibly portray the way in which this fascinating idea has played out in my own mind. But unfortunately, my head seems to be bursting at the seams, and I must write of it, before it’s too late.
I awoke one morning last week, my senses overflowing with the memory of something I once knew. I couldn’t place it instantly, but I soon realized I was ‘smelling’ (in whatever way the memory allows us to smell) the aroma of a Christmas blend of coffee. It was one that Kristin and I brewed enjoyably for a few weeks last winter. It was a moment thick with nostalgia. With it were brought recollections of fresh Ohio snows, hardwood floors, and paper birds that patterned our walls.
Not a few days later, I drank one too many cups of coffee (unfortunately, not a delightful Christmas blend) and needed a quick snack before Thai class. I ran down the street in hopes of a quick carbohydrate fix. I grabbed a pack of Ritz crackers in a hurry, not knowing I would be plunged once more into a distant place and time. Upon my first bite I remembered my mom; my beautiful, supportive mother, who I can sit hours upon hours with, laughing with, talking to, and apparently snacking alongside. I could hardly believe the accuracy in which I was recalling the details of time spent with her: my mother’s genuine laugh lingering in the air, her sincere outlooks spilling out for me, and the warmth of a perfect hug.
I awoke one morning last week, my senses overflowing with the memory of something I once knew. I couldn’t place it instantly, but I soon realized I was ‘smelling’ (in whatever way the memory allows us to smell) the aroma of a Christmas blend of coffee. It was one that Kristin and I brewed enjoyably for a few weeks last winter. It was a moment thick with nostalgia. With it were brought recollections of fresh Ohio snows, hardwood floors, and paper birds that patterned our walls.
Not a few days later, I drank one too many cups of coffee (unfortunately, not a delightful Christmas blend) and needed a quick snack before Thai class. I ran down the street in hopes of a quick carbohydrate fix. I grabbed a pack of Ritz crackers in a hurry, not knowing I would be plunged once more into a distant place and time. Upon my first bite I remembered my mom; my beautiful, supportive mother, who I can sit hours upon hours with, laughing with, talking to, and apparently snacking alongside. I could hardly believe the accuracy in which I was recalling the details of time spent with her: my mother’s genuine laugh lingering in the air, her sincere outlooks spilling out for me, and the warmth of a perfect hug.
Since these moments, I have been thinking on the mind, and on memory. I have been thinking on how extraordinary it is that a sight, a bite, a sound, can generate such precious thoughts, hidden deep in a place undefined. I suppose I’ve always thought the mind to be quite logical and orderly, but lately it’s become a thing of great wonder and secrecy. And I am grateful for its pleasant interruptions. For the way that it reminds me of where I’ve been, what I’ve done, who I love.
And now I’m left marveling at what my memory might bring to me of my time spent in Thailand!
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