Sunday, January 25, 2009

MAGICAL MEMORIES

Memories ARE MAGICAL
Webster's defines Memories this way:

Definition of Memory
Memory: 1. The ability to recover information about past events or knowledge. 2. The process of recovering information about past events or knowledge. 3. Cognitive reconstruction. The brain engages in a remarkable re shuffling process in an attempt to extract what is general and what is particular about each passing moment
Whatever the definition memories are our most precious function. Memories never die. They may fade a tad bit but they are there whether they be sad or good. I tend to try to forget the bad ones but to no avail. A word, a smell, a sound, a place, and many other things can being memories flooding back. I like that fact.
I was just flabbergasted yesterday when hearing a conversation going on between someone else that this one came to my mind seeing that I was only two years when it happened. I was there again as it all flashed through my mind like a movie that I was watching. Clear as if It was happening right now. I made notes so as not to forget but it is still there. Now my Parents had told me the story before but this was like a instant replay in my mind that transported me right in to the scene again.
When I was two my Mama and Daddy took me on the train and we traveled from our home in AR. to Corcoran CA. where my Mama's parents lived. The train ride is vivid. I was of course restless and not wanting to sit still. There was a water fountain with these pointed paper cups that just fascinated me. I wanted a drink every few minutes and my doting Daddy always took me saving the cup so they were not wasted. I had to pee so Mama took me to the bathroom which also facinated me. Nothing was working though as it wouldn't with any two year old. I remember the man walking up and down the aisles (can't remember what they are called) giving me something and telling me "This is your train ticket, hold on to it because I will ask for it when you get off the train. You must have it or you can't get off". It was an attempt to help my parents who I suspect were worn out with me by now. I guess it worked for a while. I put the ticket' in Daddy's shirt pocket and told him to keep it for me and got rowdy again. "Gotta go dodo' I was hollering. This time they didn't believe me though. Daddy put me on his knee and started bouncing me up and down to pacify me. Well GUESS WHAT? Seems I did need to 'dodo' cause I proceeded to do it, right down Daddy's leg and in his shoe. YEP! Sure nuff did! I don't remember the clean up at all though I have tried but I sure remember the incident vividly.
I don't remember sleeping on the train which we probably did. Next thing is the train stopping and it was time to get off. I started yelling, "Daddy, where's my ticket, where's my ticket". I got up in his face and grabbed his head and started jerking it back and forth still yelling "Daddy give me my ticket". Well Daddy didn't have my ticket, and he didn't even remember the thing at all right at that minute. "What are you talkin' about Clydene? Get down, we've gotta get off the train". At this I started bellerin' and snotin' like crazy. "Daddy I gotta have my ticket or that man won't let me off. What didya' do with it Daddy"? I guess then I was about to tear the pocket off Daddies shirt tryin' to find my ticket and Daddy was so flustered he couldn't figure out what the heck was wrong with me and got firm with me in the form of a spat on my butt. The man who had given me the ticket saved more pain by walking by and giving me my "Ticket". "Little lady did you lose this?" He said, and winked at my parents. I took my 'ticket' from him and through my snotty nose I thanked him. Now I could get off that durn train with my Mama and Daddy!
Our brain is an amazing thing. Our whole bodies and the way it all works is a miraculous thing. Who could not believe in a God who could do this, make this. We are the very first computers my friends. Manufactured by a Supreme being. Made like a fine oiled engine that no man could make. For a mind to bring back a scene from 62 years ago is indeed a miracle to behold and I am greatful and Thankful to the God who made me.
Like I said before, Old memories never die. And I am so happy to be able to draw mine up from deep in my mind somewhere. It perked up my ordinary day in a glorious way. Memories, whether they be good or bad, happy or tormenting. They made us what we are today. YEP!