Things I remember

I decided it’s not a listicle

I remember taking swimming lessons, but still can’t swim.

I remember going to the drive-in theatre with my aunt and uncle and for some reason the popcorn was always slightly burnt.

I remember my brother buying me a new hoodie for my senior class trip because I was nervous - hoodies are my Linus blanket.

I remember the first time someone asked me out - I said no.

I remember my first car.

I remember all the residents at the assisted living facility.

I remember all the deaths at the assisted living facility.

I remember crying in the bathroom every time.

I remember the first time I watched Rushmore.

I remember being called heartless for being pro-choice.

I remember how I felt when our dog died when I was in grade six and away at camp.

I remember thinking I knew what love is, but it wasn’t until I fell in love with my wife that I really understood it.

I remember where I was and what I was doing on September 11, 2001.

I remember my first summer job.

I remember my parents putting out carrots for the reindeer instead of cookies for Santa.

I remember what you said.

I remember what you didn’t say.

I remember what I said.

I remember what I didn’t say.

I remember middle-of-the-night conversations with my great-grandma.

I remember when time felt slow.

I remember when I got glasses and discovered the world has outlines.

I remember when I got contacts and couldn’t put them in by myself for a month. Thanks for your help, Dad.

I remember middle-of-the-night family roadtrips and trying to get every semi-truck to blow their horn.

I remember the Flintstone-esque house my brother and I found on the property when we were kids.

I remember the rumor of leprechauns living in a particular tree at my elementary school and I brought one home.

I remember the first time I tried a real cigar.

I remember the first time I had a Blue Moon with a recommended orange slice.

I remember the sound of my grandma’s voice, specifically (in her Oklahoma accent) “now you get on in here and give me some sugar” as I walked up her front porch.

I remember life with dial-up and no cell phone.

All and each of the I remembers feels like a different life - a past life from a different reality, a different timeline, a different consciousness. Reminiscing about the moments you remember and the moments you don’t I think can help with the changes of the world. Adapt, learn, create, but never dwell.