Sights, sounds, smells –  that instant when one of them hits me, and I am immediately transported to another time.  A fond dreaminess comes over me, and I try to relive that moment until the present demands me back.

I was driving home yesterday, tooling down the road when a song came on the radio, and I was in the car no longer.  I was at Grandma’s house.  As the littlest member of our visiting family, I was relegated to sleeping on the couch, but I didn’t mind.  Many mornings on the couch, I was awakened to the smell of Grandma’s pancakes and the sound of the Statler Brothers or other country singers belting their tunes on the little tabletop radio.

Memories can make me smile, and memories can make me cry, and, sometimes, memories can make me do both at once.  I love that moment in my mind; I ache that it is gone; I get angry that I didn’t appreciate it more fully at the time; I regret that so often I wasted my current blessings wishing for what wasn’t.  But even those missed opportunities have a purpose, for they have taught me to grab onto today and love it for what it is.

I wish I had that old tape recorder that sat on Grandma’s table.  But I do have her music, literally and figuratively.  Her old country records sit in my house, and I sometimes play them and again relive that moment in my mind.

 

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