Memory is a Funny Thing

Have you ever noticed that a smell or an object can somehow transport you back in time and have you drifting in Memory la la land? That happens to me from time to time. Although la la land is where I spend most of my mental time. 

When my Grandmother passed away I asked my Mom for one favor, to set aside my Grandmother's copy of the book "Are You My Mother?"

I would beg her to read this book to me when we were at her house. I remember the way the binding cracked when she opened it, the way her voiced sounded when she said the line "You are not my mother, you are a snort!"And that her voice always took a higher tone when she said the little bird's lines.

My cousin and I would have sleepovers at my grandmother's house. One time in particular we noticed that our Grandparents were always doing nice things for us and we devised and plan to do something nice for them. After we were tucked in bed and kissed goodnight we put our plans in motion to make them brunch and drafted up a "menu." I fell asleep and shortly thereafter was awoken by Shannon's (my cousin) excited face. "I think its time to get everything ready." We really wanted to wake up before my Grandparents so breakfast would be awaiting them downstairs. Shannon was all over wake up duty, and I'm pretty sure she never fell asleep.

We tip toed around the kitchen, set the table in the sunroom, and debated whether the peanut butter should go on the toast before or after you put it in the toaster oven. We chose before, the toast was extremely strange. At some point during our breakfast assembly, I think while we were making the fruit salad which I'm pretty sure was just grapes, my Grandparents came downstairs.

Their voices were calm and soft, "What are you girls doing?" "Uhhhhh...we wanted to surprise you with breakfast." "Oh," Short pause "Do you know what time it is?" "No" "It's 4 in the morning."

Our preparation was a tad early, and I'm sure my Grandparents were so confused when the toaster oven went off at 3:50am. They never got mad at us. They walked us into the living room and my Grandmother offered to read us a book before we went to bed. "Are You My Mother?" was that book. It wasn't too long after the bird found her mother that we were back in our beds fast asleep.

Although it is just cardboard, paper, and words that have been published and republished for years, this book with its worn cover, it's thick yellowing pages, and its story houses so many memories for me. It is by far one of the most precious things that I own. And one day, when I'm feeling brave and when Grace is over her goat-like book eating habits, we'll read it together over and over and over. We'll add our own wear and tear and add onto the memories that this book has already collected.

Day 10: Childhood Memory