Little Moments

My younger sister, C., and I were sitting on the bleachers with my mom. My older brother and sister were doing well at their swimming lessons. We were their cheerleaders, but my little sister wanted to be more than that. She wanted to go swimming with the ‘big kids’. She snuck off while my mom and I were talking. When we realized that she was gone, we were in a frenzy.

I was sent to the locker room to see if she was in there, but she saw me coming and scampered away. Little C. was only 4 or 5 at the time and running away was her favorite game. I tried to walk safely towards her and stop her from leaving the locker room, but she started running faster and there was a lot of water on the ground. It was a hopeless cause.

The next thing I remember was bright lights. I was laying on a table. My mom said that I had slipped and hit my head on a bench in the locker room. I don’t know how long I was out, but at least my little sister was safe. I guess I was out for a while, because my dad was there. We had left him at home and it was a 15 minute drive to the pool.

A lot happened that day and I’ll never remember it. I also won’t remember my childhood, or at least most of it. When I woke up, I was surrounded by people who loved me, and a lifeguard or two. I remembered the big things, like where we were, who I was, how old I was, and my family members. But I forgot all the little things. I remembered what I was learning about in school and who my friends were, but the memories of my childhood were gone. 

They still are. I don’t remember much, and my short-term memory isn’t very good either. However, I am able to remember bits and pieces of my childhood, with the help of pictures and family members. With pictures I’m able to put pieces of my past together. It is scary to think that I don’t remember part of my life, but it’s even scarier knowing that I’ll go through the rest of my life like this.

Even now it’s hard to remember things. I’m able to remember facts and assignments. I’m able to study the scriptures and retain what I learn. It’s the small moments that don’t stay in my memory, and I know that those little moments are what make my life important and fulfilling.

I try to take a picture a day. I don’t make it a goal, because I don’t want to be disappointed if it doesn’t happen, but it usually does. I’ve recognized that keeping a journal and taking pictures help me; it helps me to enjoy the little moments, and to feel like I’m living a fulfilling life. Looking back at pictures helps me to remember, or at least put more pieces of my life’s puzzle together.

Along with those pictures, I’m trying to write an autobiography. It’s not a book or anything like that. I have a box where I put ticket stubs, concert programs, wedding invitations, etc. Every so often I go through and put those memories into my autobiography. It’s just a binder full of loose leaf pages. Years are written at the top of the page, but I don’t try to separate out the months, I just add things as I go. My experiences are in one binder, which remains in one place, so that I won’t forget the memories, or where I put my binder. Hahah!

Let’s get real for a few minutes. One of my biggest fears is that I won’t remember. That I’ll start forgetting the most important things… like my testimony and my family. I know that I already forget the little things. I don’t know who my friends were in elementary and junior high school; I know I was shy, but I did have friends. I actually do remember what I ate yesterday, but not last week. I’m able to remember and randomly share facts, whether it be history, science, even fictitious stories, but not when prompted, only at my leisure. I know what I believe, but I’m starting to forget how they came to be, the experiences that support them.

I never want to forget my life. I want to recognize the things that have brought me to where I am now. I want to be able to appreciate the little things along the way: the joys, the struggles, the heartaches, God’s hand in my life, and so much more. That’s probably not possible for me, and it’s taken me a long time to start accepting that fact. I’m not yet at peace with it, but I’m working on it. It may be one of the biggest struggles of my life, but I’m going to try to meet it head on.

Nature and writing are therapeutic to me. Writing blog posts, jotting down some random thoughts, documenting how nature changes; it helps me see that things change, not just me. Enjoying those little things make it okay for me. They help me to see my potential and help me to see that I don’t need to remember everything along the way, just to remember the big things.

It’s enjoying the little moments that means the most to me, because the little moments are what help bigger things come into play. I know that my childhood memories won’t be returned to me, at least not all of them, but I don’t have to dwell on the past. I may not have as many memories to look back on, but I need to look towards the future.