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For the past few weeks I have been thinking of my most prized collection. It’s something we rarely think of and tend to take for granted as did I until I realized a few years ago that they could slip away, as they did with my mother.
I’m speaking of my collection of memories. Perhaps it’s my age or the number of possible triggers, but I seem to be flooded with them lately.
After hours of watching TV and the events in Boston I think of all the other disasters I have seen over the years. The assassination of President Kennedy is the first one I remember that I witnessed in front of the TV. Of course that was followed by many more. I was working in my studio when the bomb went off in Oklahoma City and I was getting ready for work when I saw the twin towers fall.
On Friday night when for hours it seemed there were views of Boston Streets, much of which was seen from a helicopter and I thought of the hours spent watching a white Bronco head down a California Freeway with OJ Simpson inside and wondering why I was watching it.
Of course, they are not all sad or scary memories. My little niece who lives in Seattle posted a video of her and her friend dancing in their school talent show. It so reminded me of myself and my friend when we were 10 years old and we made up a dance to the “Bunny Hop” and, without telling our parents, we got on a bus and went to downtown Atlanta to do it on the Dick Van Dyke Show. I was surprised at how young my niece looked when Roberta and I felt so grown up.
FaceBook is a never-ending trigger for memories. I saw a photo of a little dog surrounded by his toys and a sign around his neck reading “I am a hoarder”. I remembered when I moved a floor cushion and found 32 bright yellow tennis balls that had been collected by my miniature poodle. Then there are always dogs that need homes that remind me of those I have known. I often see one that reminds me of Rex, the border collie I tried to rescue before my yard was fenced in and learned he was not a house dog. I took him to my parents where he lived for the next 12 years.
A row of hydrangeas in full bloom reminded me of those planted beside the stream that ran across my back yard of my house in Decatur. I carried a big bouquet of those when I was married at the carillon at Stone Mountain. I don’t have the house anymore, or the husband for that matter, but the memory is vivid.
Someone posted a video about a friendship between a parakeet and a pug. I wish there had been video cameras when we had our Tweety bird and could show him riding around on ToNee’s (the Pekingese) head. They would have complete conversations between them and we always wondered what they were saying to each other. The memory still makes me smile.
Then there was the dancing dolphins that made me think of the three who gave me a private performance at Mexico Beach in Florida one morning. That was a special time.
And the list could go on and on, with each one being more special than the other. To make this even more amazing is to realize that with each day I am adding to my collection and will continue to do so for the rest of my life. This is a wonderful thing to contemplate.