These Are My Reflections

As the holiday time moves closer towards us, I begin to reflect upon the memories of times past. Some have been tucked away for safe-keeping and some are kept out in the open for everyone to see. For me, long forgotten memories can surface with a sound, a smell, or a picture. For instance, the smell of concrete reminds me of the time I went to the Bill Rice Ranch in Tennessee. It was unbelievably hot that time of year and the only air conditioned buildings were the cafeteria and the auditorium. The camp itself held a number of music competitions which were taking place all throughout the day so we had to make a choice: suffer through the heat outside or suffer through some horrible off key singers. We chose the latter and made our way into the auditorium and even though our ears protested, our bodies enjoyed every moment of the cool air. The building was made of concrete and it smelled cool and sandy. Ah what memories! The sound of metal scraping a chalkboard (OUCH!) can transport me back to the time in my College Freshman Music Theory class when my classmate dragged a metal chalk holder across the board. It was horrendous but I’m glad to say that the teacher never called on him again. A picture of me with my college roommate reminds me of the good times we had in our room talking about dreams, the meaning of life, and Diner Dash. Yes I got her hooked on Diner Dash and I’m proud of it.

But all memories aren't good. Seeing a cemetery reminds me of the time my Poppy died. It was the first time I was confronted with death and the first time I had been to a cemetery. I had no idea what was going on and all I knew was that I wouldn’t see him anymore. Many people tried to paint happy faces on but I could see inside that it hurt them to. I’ll never forget being there beside his casket and my Grandma bursting into tears. My dad just wrapped his arms around her and tried to comfort her as much as possible. Other memories cause regret and pain. Sometimes I imagine myself in an ocean and I feel a tug. At first I am complacent to let it drag me under until I realize I am going to drown. Its icy grasp won’t let me go until I resolve that I won’t let it beat this time so I fight it. It’s a long hard battle up to the top but I somehow make it. Gasping, I look around and nothing is there but a calm sea, bright sun, and birds. Then I feel the tug and plunge into the cold ocean again and again.

Regret is not something that I wish to battle and I wish I could say that I am strong and that I don’t let it get the best of me but I am human. There have been times that I can’t stand it anymore and just break down crying but then I feel God’s loving arms around me saying “It’s ok. It’s ok. I still love you.” I am reminded of the Legacy Five song Take it to the Cross. The first verse is me through and through.

Another song that helps me is Somebody’s Praying for Me. I know that I got through the tough times because people were praying for me.

Memories can be good and bad even funny or serious. They can be triggered by sights, smells, and sounds. They transport you back to the place where it all happened. How wonderful our minds work. So to end this reflective blog I leave you with a quote from Thomas Fuller: “Leftovers in their less visible form are called memories. Stored in the refrigerator of the mind and the cupboard of the heart.”