Can you feel what I feel? Can we make it so that's part of the deal?
Man, Oh man- I love this time of year. The crisp air and changing weather. The sun that goes to sleep a little earlier in the day. I find the fall to be nostalgic and hopeful and filled with so many sensory triggers that instantly transport me back to childhood. For me, the thing about fall is that it's comfortable- like broken-in jeans, or fuzzy slippers. It just feels right, you know?
I had a friend in college who would eat an astonishing amount of candy corn during the months of October and November. The thing is, she didn't really like them all that much, and they inevitably made her sick, but she ate them anyway. "They taste like being a kid" she told me once. And, I knew exactly what she meant. Candy corn were her preferred method of time travel- the little sugary vessels that took her back to a more comfortable time. I guess life after 13 had plagued her with a lot of pain and uncertainty, and she would tell me- over a bag of candy corn- how 12 was the last time she felt really safe. Candy corn made her feel safe again- at least momentarily. I suppose that's the power of a memory.
I was flipping stations on the radio the other day and I came across this song called 'Broken Arrow', by Rod Stewart. It was right at the line that says "Who else is gonna bring you a broken arrow? Who else is gonna bring you a bottle of rain?" It made me instantly sentimental because it took me back to 12 or 13 years old, riding in the front seat of my dad's truck, and listening to the album 'Vagabond Heart'. Man, I loved that album. Maybe I loved it so much because I only listened to it with my dad- only in his truck- and almost always when it was just the two of us. But, hearing that song again reminded me of this feeling of being completely okay- this feeling that, no matter what, being with my dad was where I belonged.
And, hearing that song again in my own car- at 24 years of age, and more than an hour's drive from my dad- I felt okay, safe even, like I belonged somewhere.
Memories have a funny way of sneaking up on you. And, I've always been very intrigued by how closely they're tied to our senses. I guess that's why I love the fall so much- there are so many good memories that I collected during those months, and an endless amount of triggers that take me instantly back to them.
My friend with the candy corn memories, moved to Ohio after our freshman year of college. She fell in love and married a man that made her feel safe. But, I can't help but wonder if she still eats candy corn. And, I can't help but wonder if 12 years from now, hearing Rod Stewart sing about broken arrows, will still make me feel as if I'm perfectly, and completely, okay- like exactly where I am, is exactly where I belong.
I had a friend in college who would eat an astonishing amount of candy corn during the months of October and November. The thing is, she didn't really like them all that much, and they inevitably made her sick, but she ate them anyway. "They taste like being a kid" she told me once. And, I knew exactly what she meant. Candy corn were her preferred method of time travel- the little sugary vessels that took her back to a more comfortable time. I guess life after 13 had plagued her with a lot of pain and uncertainty, and she would tell me- over a bag of candy corn- how 12 was the last time she felt really safe. Candy corn made her feel safe again- at least momentarily. I suppose that's the power of a memory.
I was flipping stations on the radio the other day and I came across this song called 'Broken Arrow', by Rod Stewart. It was right at the line that says "Who else is gonna bring you a broken arrow? Who else is gonna bring you a bottle of rain?" It made me instantly sentimental because it took me back to 12 or 13 years old, riding in the front seat of my dad's truck, and listening to the album 'Vagabond Heart'. Man, I loved that album. Maybe I loved it so much because I only listened to it with my dad- only in his truck- and almost always when it was just the two of us. But, hearing that song again reminded me of this feeling of being completely okay- this feeling that, no matter what, being with my dad was where I belonged.
And, hearing that song again in my own car- at 24 years of age, and more than an hour's drive from my dad- I felt okay, safe even, like I belonged somewhere.
Memories have a funny way of sneaking up on you. And, I've always been very intrigued by how closely they're tied to our senses. I guess that's why I love the fall so much- there are so many good memories that I collected during those months, and an endless amount of triggers that take me instantly back to them.
My friend with the candy corn memories, moved to Ohio after our freshman year of college. She fell in love and married a man that made her feel safe. But, I can't help but wonder if she still eats candy corn. And, I can't help but wonder if 12 years from now, hearing Rod Stewart sing about broken arrows, will still make me feel as if I'm perfectly, and completely, okay- like exactly where I am, is exactly where I belong.
posted by Unknown at 3:07 PM
2 Comments:
one thing that I remember from yesterday's sermon-
the difference between memories and dreams, and how I love them both very much
That was so beautiful...I too remember the days of riding around the farm in my dad's truck on a hot summer day - windows rolled down with my hair blowing crazily and his arms resting on the door and tan from years of driving around.
I hadn't thought about that "safety" in a very long time - thanks for the reminder today.
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