March 23, 2013

Five Minute Friday: Remember

 Today I'm joining Lisa-Jo Baker for Five Minute Friday, where we write for five minutes flat and join in a chorus of raw, honest writing around her one-word prompts. Today, we write about 'remember.' Will you join us? Head on over to Lisa-Jo's blog and link-up!


Memories lie dormant; we forget they're there until suddenly, a word, a song, a smell, a color, a touch, a texture, starts that churning. Out of apparently nowhere, slips a memory to the forefront of our minds.

I see a warm light yellow color and think of my voice teacher's piano studio in high school. It reminded me of sunflowers and made me feel good about myself.

I hear the familiar notes of an old favorite song come on the radio, and I'm instantly back riding in the car with my best friend, or dancing in my room at home with my sister, or nursing a broken heart from a high school fling.

I taste the tangy, sweet lemonade and think about visiting my great-grandmother in the nursing home when I was a young girl. Lemonade, and lemon bars, and lemon products to clean and cover up the stale smell. All lemon. I remember Helen.

I touch the stretchy winter fabrics of the clothes I go through to pack away. These were the dresses I wore during my winter of rubbing my rounding tummy and coming to love the child growing inside.

I smell my mother's perfume and I think back to my first ballet recital. The frenzy backstage, as we pulled on our pink tights and sequined costumes, and wore our hair pulled back in tight buns, and watched the older girls waltz through the room in their bright lipstick and confidence, and I felt so nervous. She sprayed some on my wrist before we lined up to go onstage and told me to smell it if I felt scared. The perfume she sprayed on my wrist before every recital, show, performance thereafter. The perfume that makes me feel brave enough.

My senses help me remember these moments through the years, whether they come back sharp and stabbing, dull and warm, or just bring a comforting smile to my face, I'm thankful that I have a way to look back and think upon the moments that make up a life.



  1. I love how many senses you were able to hit upon in such a short time. What great memories, and what a great idea your mother had.

    I'm especially sensitive to smell, so I love the idea of having one that inspires confidence and security even in scary moments.

    Great stuff.