Fragments of Memory

I have stated several times here that there are entire blanks in my memory from about twelve years old and younger. But the brain is amazig and I know the memories are there, just kind of locked away. Why I'll never know. I once talked to a therapist about it and she didn't think it seemed to matter. Just move forward was her rational. I think it matters though I don't dwell on the lost memory. Some will come and most will not but I know what I know from already having lived those lost moments.

For whatever reason one of those memories surfaced recently. Fear. A terrifying  fear of when I was in first grade and riding the bus home from school. My stop came in front of a house with a white female German Shepard. She was behind a fence but on one of those days she hopped it with ease and started towards me. I was scared out of my mind that I would be bit. It never happened and I was never even really in any danger. I went to the other side of the street and she stayed on hers. It was her turf and she was claiming it. I didn't know enough about dogs to know that then and from then on I rode an extra three blocks to avoid her. I allowed the fear to dictate my actions. But I was only a boy.

I don't think this has ever left me entirely. I am nervous around large dogs unless the owner is around. Then I feel okay. Was it rational fear? Probably not but most fears are not that rational. I have learned to fight back on my fear and act on them. I'm not always successful. Fear can freeze me and control me at times like a freighter caught in the ice pack being squeezed harder and harder every minute. I feel it in my chest the same way. Breathing can be labored to the point of actually having to think to breathe.

Our lives are full of uncertainties and many can bring with them fear and anxiety. I will have to move forward and break free of the bonds when restricted and let the reins loose. It is after all just a feeling. A fragment of our psyche. Fear can bind or show us freedom. It is always our choice.

Stratosphere to Stratocaster

Tonight all it took was one link to a Stevie Ray Vaughn video and I was riding the coaster to the stratosphere on a stratocaster. I followed the links and listened and watched coming back to Crossfire twice. The talent Stevie possessed over the strats and strings was mesmerizing. Chilled me to the bone and lifted me to the heavens.

Put on some head phones and kick it. Ride the coaster stratocaster to the stratosphere of musical tranquility. Don't stop on the first ride, tell the operator one more time. Ride the coaster, ride the coaster, ride the coaster...................................................................................................one more time.

Bad Vibes Today

For some reason I found myself so tensed up I was literally shaking. I almost could not type simple commands at work. I have not felt this way in a decade. Pretty scary. I would elaborate more but at this time I think I would only start to relive the feelings and I am very calm now. I want to keep it that way.

Big Brother Influences

Some of my memories are black and gone as I have stated in these pages before. But there are still a few memories. Tonight I clicked on a Facebook link about one of the "On this day..." kind of link about the Doors. The link went to You Tube and for the next twenty minutes I found myself drifting back to the late sixties riding on memory lane.

Memory lane in that era was 1104 S. 27th St. Yes I can remember our house number but not other details of those days. Go figure. The mind is incredibly diverse. But it wasn't the music I remembered so much, after all I have listened to it many hundreds of times since then, rather how I shared the bedroom with my older brother Doug.

Doug was in High School at the time and the era of rock n roll was in full swing. He had a small but terrific collection of albums. The Doors, Jimi Hendrix and the Experience, Cream and others I can't recall. But it is of these three I think really formed an impression on my musical tastes for years to come.

Eric Clapton remains on the top of my list as one of the all time greatest guitarist and to what realm could Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison have taken music had their lives continued. The world is extremely lucky to have been graced by their combined works.

I was but a fly on the wall that watched and observed. Soaking in the vibrations of the late '60's. Thanks Doug for exposing me to the works of these great artists.

Chiseled Thoughts

I have asked myself a thousand times why. Always the same answer returns as a null. Oh I can guess and I might be right but I might also be wrong. The words flowed as if lava from the core into my conscious being. I cannot breathe any longer without these thoughts. Day after day the sculptor's chisels work them deeper into my core. I am powerless to stop it. I am consumed by it.

Why do so many wonderful evenings together end this way? It has been a trend for as long as I can remember. A good time, friends all around until at home alone, the two of us in the cocoon we call a car. And then the heated words start to flow. Just a few at first until the eruption cannot be contained and the burns in my consciousness are completed, ready now for the mind's sculptor to do the dirty work with the chisel of agony embedding forever a few simple words.

Words that are powerful and hungry for attention in the mind, where already a million distractions exists. But the well placed blows of the sculptor has set the path. I cannot forget. I must move forward with yet another piece of decandent art in the collection of memories I will not be able to auction out.

Letter to Mom September 11th 2011

Dear Mom,

I know when we talk on the phone or I end an email to you, the words I love you are spoken or appended. But today I want to explain what those words really mean to me.

Your love has always been unconditional. When I was in some troubled times you were there and the love didn't change. You were always there when I was growing up even though you were mostly a single parent. Your love for me was there then as well. I appreciate the memories I have of you in the stands, freezing I might add, while I enjoyed myself playing little league football. You were there during the summers too, supporting me during baseball. You were there in all I did as a young boy and I should have included you more as a young man. There was nothing I could do good or bad that changed the live you freely shared with me.

But that was then and this is now; more than a thousand miles separates us. But somehow your love transcends those miles and still touches me. It is I who is blessed to have you as my Mom. I wish there were portals as in video games to allow instantaneous passage to and from one place to another. I would certainly be taking advantage of such a system to see you more often. Seeing you once a year is not enough.

As your 79th birthday passed, I reflected on these things and more. It is difficult for me to express this in words written or spoken. I am grateful for everything you have ever done for me and continue to do for me and my family.

It is now almost time for my birthday and this letter to you is my present to myself and a belated gift to you. The cookies are still welcome but it is the love you have freely given yours and my entire life that is the most important thing in my life.

I love you Mom,
Johnny

Random Thought

Memories are subtle. I think a thought about the past and details are lost or non-existent. When I hold a photo the memory is more clear than when looking at a digital photo. Is there a tangible link to memory as it relates to tactile feelings? The photo itself is not the memory but only an paper record of the time. I find it is the same with music. Listening to older tunes evokes memories. But seeing a video created, not even from the era, evokes a different type of memory.