I find the times I can most vividly feel a memory is when it’s provoked by a scent, site or sound.
On Monday Mojito nights, I’m immediately taken back to age 5 & 6, when I would crawdad fish with my brother in the creek out back of our old house. The scent of the mint leaves was so strong out there that even the faintest hint of them today can bring me back as if it was yesterday. I instantly picture the steep, dirt slope we’d have to climb down to get there, the fishing poles we’d make out of sticks and strings and even the disappointment we felt when the creek bed was dried out, though we never seemed to run out of things to do.
Places do the same thing to me. I can drive down almost any street here in Concord and have a million tiny memories rush over me at once. Living in the same city for over 20 years is to blame.
A kind of major (and admittedly, silly) thing happened a couple days ago. My childhood friend and I attempted to visit our favorite Indian restaurant. Let me explain. My dad grew up a missionary kid in India. Naturally, when he met and married my mom in Bible college, they felt called to go to India as well. To prepare, my parents used to take us to Indian social gatherings to mingle with those from that culture. We didn’t end up moving to India (you can read more about that here) but needless to say, Indian food has been a major part of our lives. It became a tradition of sorts to meet at a local Indian restaurant called Namaste almost every Sunday afternoon for lunch. Sometimes it was just our family and sometimes we were joined by up to 15 friends. I frequented as a grade schooler, a high school student dating my future daughter’s father, a young married mother with a newborn baby, and most recently, the single-mother of a 7 year old might-as-well-be-a-teenage daughter. Many, many memories in this place. I say my friend and I “attempted to visit” this restaurant because sadly, it was completely empty when we showed up! Nothing could have stopped our over-reaction. It was as if someone died. Although neither of us shed a tear, the flood of memories was overwhelming. Knowing we could never visit Namaste again was painful. We snapped a few pics and drove away for the last time. (See? Totally silly!)
Anyhow. Lastly, we all know that a song can instantly take us to a time and place like no other. Mariah Carrey time warps me to the stage of my elementary school multi-purpose room where I performed a dance routine with some friends for a 3rd grade talent show. Pink Floyd has me covering my eyes and yelling at my sister for shutting the lights off while playing “Is there anybody out there?” and “Yellow” by Coldplay makes me feel like a Canadian college student again. I could go on and on.
Ohhh, the power of music and the gift of hearing! My brother-in-law posted this video a couple days ago on Facebook. It shows an 8 month old baby hearing for the very first time after having his Cochlear Implant activated. How amazing is his reaction!? I’d like to reiterate my thankfulness for our advancements in technology and the capabilities we have because of it. This baby will now be able to hear a song when he’s 25 years old that will instantly bring him back to his childhood!
