March Twenty-second; Every Moment, Becomes a Memory

 I’m sitting here, with my ever present cup of coffee, watching through the window, a cat watch me. The sun is well up, I’ve caught up momentarily on my blog reading and am now preparing to work on mine. I am waiting on the morning call from mom though. Being interrupted in the middle of writing tends to derail my train of thoughts and ideas completely. This has at times sent that train off on some totally different direction and therefore not sharing the ideas I had in the beginning.

At some point in time though, I will look back and this and smile at the memories.I’ve mentioned many times the memories I have of my childhood here. Living in the house that I grew up in, those memories are always close. Simply looking out the door can bring back a thought and a smile. Taking a hike down through the woods, when allowed there is a memory that surfaces around every bend in the trail.

 Social media has was to remind us of passing moments. The things that we did or thought or shared at any particular time.

Getting together with friends and family we enjoy those trips down memory lane and the times that were shared.

I am sitting here wondering, do we realize, that every moment of our life, is the making of a memory? Those moments and memories, shape what is to come, and what we see, should we look back. I wonder, how many would like what they see?

I will admit, there are moments of my past, where the memories are not the best. But even those, have purpose. A lifetime ago, before my late husband, I was married to another. We moved from our home here in North Carolina to a town in Louisiana in the good ole USA. Nearly eight hundred miles away from every one and everything I knew and into a very different lifestyle. Even though the area and the people were, and I’m sure still are amazing, the life was not good. I found myself trapped in an abusive relationship where at times I wondered if I would survive. It finally reached a point where I knew if I were to survive, I had to get out. It took some planning and conniving and finally the police, but escape I did. Those final images burned forever into memory.

The important thing is, I have those memories that I can tell anyone going through similar problems, I understand, and I do, because I’ve been there. Every time I hear someone ask, “Why didn’t- don’t they just leave?” I want to tell them, it isn’t that simple. It sounds simple, it sounds reasonable, but it isn’t. You have to reach a point, where desperation drives you. You have to reach a point where self preservation or the safety of children are of the most importance. You have to find or create that escape, because in abusive relationships, those abused are prisoners. 

Over the course of the time with my late husband, thirty-two years married, we made a lot of memories. Not all of them would be classified good. We faced times of bad health, of unemployment, of fear of losing everything. But we had more good memories than bad. Still, I can look back and use them good or bad, to teach and remind and grow, even today.

 I worked for the same company for technically over thirty years because I worked for them for four, quit and was gone for a while then returned. Over the course of time, I learned a great deal, especially about management and working with others. I also learned how stubborn I can be and that I have no fear of getting dirty when the situation called for getting involved in repairs.

 I’ve been out of work for almost a year now. I’ve been able to get things done around the house and yard, but I’ve also been here for my parents. I’ve been here to answer the phone who knows how many times each day, to go take care of the emergency of the moment even if its standing on a step ladder changing a light bulb. I’ve been here for them.

 Right now, one of the feral cats is sitting on the top step out back. Ever so often it will turn and look this way. Earlier, I watched as one of the other cats was chasing leaves at the base of the steps. My son, who has spent the past weekend off on adventure, making the house very quiet, will be home soon. These are gentle memories. These are the ones that will bring comfort at some point. These are the moments where the memories will bring a smile. Treasured and cherished.

He was so excited over working for this company, washing the truck himself gave him a sense of pride.