Category: Writers Block
Thinking of a simpler time and place, I look at my writing as a time capsule. A glimpse into the past that some weren't part of.
I remember summer nights, when the soft wind was so sweet, the smell of freshly mowed lawns filled my
nostrils, when the only thing that mattered was a good book, a porch swing, and a glass of iced tea laced with sprigs of mint.
I remember the winters, so cold and bone-chilling, the wind howling like a tormented soul, and standing in a little house, the only warmth coming from a small heater located against one wall.
I remember ice cream freezers, the crank almost welded to my fingers, my arms tired from cranking, and I, determined to do my part because I knew the treat, the reward for all my hard work would be waiting inside a simple machine.
I remember spring nights, and rain on a tin roof, its melodic drumming playing me a sleepy lullaby.
I remember Star Trek, the show that predicted the future. I remember the Civil Rights movement, the assasination of President Kenedy, Bobby Kenedy, and Martin Luther King, and the sadness that prevailed, draping this country in dark chaos.
I remember the beginning of the Vietnam war, my young mind unable to grasp the seriousness of the situation. And I was unable to grasp the trepidation this country felt, the grave consequences America would take, the lives that would be lost, and the division of this country concerning it.
I remember restless summers in a town where oil fields spewed rancid gas and oil into the atmosphere. I remember thinking how adults didn't know anything, and I knew it all.
I remember my first prom, the nervousness I felt, the anticipation of my passage into adulthood.
I remember the crazy times in my life, the sky-rocketing joy that filled me, the sense of despair when things didn't go my way.
And now, I will someday remember this web site, the friends I've made, the bloopers I've pulled, the sense of wonder this modern age conveys by the technological advances that makes this time in my life so marvelous.
I will sometimes remember the war in Iraq, stem cell research, and the terrorist attack on nine one one. Memories. They can never be destroyed, even if damage is done to the brain, for they sleep in the subconscious .
Excellent! Most of your memories I share, and your words give them added meaning.
Bob
Dream Lady,
I like your writing style, how you advance through the Seasons of Change and how we can be given to relate.
Your first line gives to me to smile for it brings to mind a Time Capsule that our family put together when building a wall of partition in our basement. We placed all odd sorts of notes of current happenings, of when we moved in, when we built the partition and so forth. Well, that partition must have been in place only a dozen or so years before it came tumbling down in another room re-do... then we came across it...The Time Capsule. Oh the changes in those few years when our sons from early elementary years to those of age to vote...
Ahh yes, this place, The Zone, has a way of growing on folks... And…“if only”...in my case, had early on I not made some of the tremendously ridiculous bloopers that had poured forth out of me at a time when personally troubled in spirit...
...and as far as Stem Cell research, may this not be simply a memory, rather an ongoing advancement in the world of science/medicine.
To memories...and may the better ones outnumber the ones we would rather had not happened.
Connie ~ Grace
It's true Grace. A few years can bring such profound changes. The only thing we can really leave our children, and generations to come, are the legacy of memories life brings to us. Here's to memories. Cheers. Thanks for viewing my writing.