There is a memory that I often "feel." There isn't enough details to really go with the feeling, so it is odd that it seems to be a favorite at all.
It happened in the fall when I went with my mom to pick up an order from someone who lived somewhere by us when we lived in Wyoming.
They lived down this one road and lived in this one house.
I remember sitting in the backseat of my mom's blue car, which means that one of my mom's friends must have ridden along in the passenger seat up front.
When my mom's friends were around, I didn't talk much. I loved being around people talking and not expecting me to talk back. Sometimes I zoned them out, sometimes I listened, but I never had to pay attention, because they never asked my opinion on what they were talking about. Sheer bliss.
What I remember about the ride was that it was dusk-just-before-dark, and the left-over light in the dark blue sky silhouetted the leafless trees. I believe it was autumn, somewhere around Halloween.
Just sitting in the backseat, staring out the window, alone with my thoughts, but in physical company. It was my perfect place of my childhood.
I love this.
ReplyDeleteIt reminds me of the times when the dullness of the present is lightly interrupted by a scent or a feeling or a sight that takes me back to some other time in my life - a time that is usually NOT identifiable by place or year, but just by feeling.
A remembering of a memory of an emotion - maybe with a slight feeling of loss or longing.
Thanks for sharing this!