Just my Thoughts

Mem’ries

This is a small piece on the theme memory for the Five for Ten Challenge at Momalom.com.

I always hear Barbra Streisand singing when I think about memories.

Mem’ries,
Light the corners of my mind
Misty water-colored memories
Of the way we were

There are so many of these misty water-colored memories in my mind.  Blurred like water colors to paper.  No clear lines.  No clear figures.  Just water-colored scenes.

Those things we remember, those water-colored scenes.  Do we choose which ones come to us or does our mind know what to show us?  Do we remember only the good and never the bad?

When you think of your memories, of your childhood, of your teen years, what is it that comes to you first?  Do you remember people or places first?  Do you think that you wish you could change a memory or do you accept what has become your past?

6 thoughts on “Mem’ries

  1. I love Barbra Streisand.

    I tend to cling to the good memories. Yet, I cannot forget the bad ones. But I have come to accept that they are all part of who I am.

  2. I find over time the happier memories filter to the top. The sadder/harder ones I wouldn’t change though as they helped me become who I am. I guess I am a past acceptor and try to live without regret, instead remembering and using the lessons I’ve learned.

  3. When I think of a song called Memories…I think of the musical Cats and of when I was 9 and went to visit my grandfather in england for the first time. He took me to see Cats and I fell asleep on his shoulder.

    If I choose to spend an afternoon in my head, I always go to the happy memories. The other ones, I chalk up to learning experiences. As long as I’ve learned from them, I’m not sure I want to waste energy re-visiting them….unless I got the it wrong and I’m reflecting to re-assess.

  4. Well, I remember prairie dogs at a zoo when I was little. And discovering Santa was dad…..

  5. I think of places – sitting in my dorm room, sitting in the house I owned with my ex-husband, sitting in the apartment I had during the two years before I met my husband now. Once I get to the place, the people come roaring in and the dialogue and, the next thing you know, I have a story.

  6. I know this song, of course, but have never thought much of the water-colored line in it. But now as I do I am brought back to the art studio of my high school days. Of the special water color paper and the way I’d delight in filing it with clear, clean water and then dotting it with color, watching the melody of hue interact on the page.

    And such is life. A blank, if fuzzy, slate. Filled by images, thoughts and feelings of our lives that are mixed and mingled on the page. How difficult it is to distinguish one from the next, for they all run together and make us who we are. And I know that my life is more easily described as a feeling than a series of straight-lined events.

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