07 February 2013


I'm afraid of forgetting.
I'm afraid of forgetting about the time I ran down an up escalator at the mall. In front of my Mom.
I'm afraid of forgetting that evening in college I spent playing poker with a bunch of guys, most of whom I didn't know, and practically cleaned out their stash of quarters.
I'm afraid of forgetting what it was like to frantically unlock doors and make it into the house in time to announce to mom and dad that I made it home by curfew. 10:59, not a minute later.
 I'm afraid of forgetting what it was like to be able to lie down and nap wherever I wanted to. (There are so many photos of my lying down/napping on the floor of our church, it's unbelievable).
I'm afraid of forgetting the time my friends and I got scolded by the neighborhood aunties for blowing ice at each other through straws from one table to the other at night market.
I'm afraid of forgetting the day I was dropping Angel off for his flight home, and he told me that he was uncomfortable with PDA, and promptly kissed me in front of all the strangers in a busy airport. I'm afraid of forgetting that feeling of cautious hope--of wondering, were we, just maybe, going to end up together?
I'm afraid of forgetting the night one of my friends used his keys to let us into a locked building at our college, where we had the intention of playing hide-and-seek, but instead, we ended up hiding from the maintenance crew and escaping when they weren't looking.
I'm afraid of forgetting the semester when I had to attend a Hispanic festival downtown for credit for Spanish class, and I was terrified of driving downtown and going to the festival on my own, so, even though I was engaged and had a long-distance fiance, I was able to talk three guys into taking me.
 I'm afraid of forgetting the night I allowed my friends to bury me in the sand on the shore of the Indian Ocean.
I'm afraid of forgetting family vacations that involved our car breaking down, 9 people in a six-seater taxi, and getting stuff stolen out of our hotel room.
I'm afraid of forgetting the night Angel drove 2 hours after working 12 hours to come to my grandparents' house and surprise me. 
I'm afraid of forgetting the secret fort my siblings and I created inside Mom's lilac bush.
I'm afraid of forgetting the papaya tree that Auntie Letchimi planted in our yard--the one that Isaac chopped down because none of us liked papaya very much.
I'm afraid of forgetting what good news it was every time Mom and Dad went away--and the nights we spent playing neighborhood-wide hide and seek in the dark after we put the baby sisters to bed.
I'm afraid of forgetting the reason why I once posed with a shop-vac. Actually, I don't remember the reason why I did that, but I suspect that I posed with it solely because of the hilarity of a shop-vac displayed in a glass case. 
I'm afraid of forgetting to dance to the music inside my head.
I'm afraid of forgetting Saturday night street witnessing with Angel and our college buddies.
I'm afraid of forgetting the horrible 24 hour period between auditioning for a role in the high school play and finding out if I'd gotten the role I wanted.
I'm afraid of forgetting about the secret evil plan that my mom came up with to have me marry this guy that she decided would make a great husband for me (not Angel). Oh no, wait, I'm pretty sure I won't forget that one. Kids never let their parents live stuff like that down.
Life is awesome. And beautiful. But I forget the precious little moments that make up the the most interesting parts of it all too quickly. Childhood is gone. My teen years are over, and with them, my single life. Before I know it, the newlywed years will be over. And I can't remember anything as well as I would like. 
 That's why I write.
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Marci Smith said...

What wonderful memories. Thank you for sharing them with your readers. :)

Anonymous said...

Great post! I loved reading about all your memories. That's why I write to. I want to be able to look bad and remember what my life was like. I want to remember the feelings and the days as if they were yesterday.

Moonofsilver said...

great memories. PLEASE write a blog post explaining each one, because many of them made me green with curiosity (like, WHY is there a shop vac on display? How did you hide from the maintenance men? How many friend were there? Did you get the role in the play?????)

Kristin said...

....otherwise known as, "reasons why I'm glad I blog". :)

Christi said...

I am totally trying to visualize running DOWN an UP escalator. You deserve an award for that, like seriously.

Angi said...

You have some seriously great memories!!! You'll never regret writing them down.

The shop vac...awesome.

Nicola Kirsty said...

I love this post. [Quite probably even LOVE this post!] Forgetting is one of my biggest fears which is probably why I've get taking a photograph for so long. I like having all those little moments documented.

It was so nice getting an insight into some of your memories. It sounds like you've got some stories. Thank you for sharing :)

Anna said...

this post makes me grin. :)
I love all the angel memories, I feel the same way about my first months with Mo, I'd hate to forget the little things that led up to us being together.

~Anchored In Christ~ said...

everyone is afraid of some things. you just have to get past it all. will read more of this later. got your blog id from terri. hope you'll view mine and give me major feed back.

Unknown said...

Hahahah i love the shopvac pic. For real.

Erin James said...

I love your writing and I love your heart.

Thankful for you, friend!

Cramer Coffee and Jesus said...

Love this post! the shop vac pic is hilarious...along with the "randomly" sleeping picture.
We did a lot of the same things growing up - basically, we should've been best buds.
My absolute favorite of these is the airport scene - that is SO something you would see in a movie! But it's better, because it's real life :)

Anonymous said...

"That's why I write." Couldn't have put it better myself. You have some really great memories! I know exactly what you were talking about when you were writing about that feeling of cautious hope with Angel at the airport. It's such an amazing/nauseating feeling. I never want to forget feeling that for my husband.