Door #35

Thursday started off like most days. My husband kissed me goodbye before he left for work. Shortly after, the kids and I rose from our beds. The girls got ready for school and were out the door before 8 AM. I spent the morning with my son. And around 11 AM, we went for a drive. It was nap time and I had a strong craving for fries. I drove to In-N-Out and ordered animal fries. They sat in the passenger seat as I took the long way home to lull my son to sleep. Once home, I put him to bed and devoured my fries.

Before and after I satisfied my craving, I spoke on the phone with four different people. Which was unusual for me but very comforting.

Later on, I picked the girls up from school and took a short nap on the couch before my youngest daughter’s cross-country practice. I shouldn’t even call it a “nap.” I lied there for about ten minutes with my eyes shut.

At the park, where practice was held, I sat alone in my car and read a book. I put the book aside and sent my husband a text: I miss you. I wrote.

He wrote back and said he missed me too and that he was hungry.

I asked if dinner was ready and he responded: Almost. I’m making your favorite.

Awesome. I forget what my favorite is though, lol. 

Whatever I’m making. He wrote.

That’s right. How could I forget. I responded with a wink emoji and heart.

Practice finally ended and night fell. We drove home under the street lights.

Mia and I walked up the dark path to our home. In the windows I saw the shadow of a banner. That’s sweet, I thought.

Mia and I approached the door. As I unlocked it she said, “You know what? I’ve never been to a surprise party before.”

The door opened and a room full of familiar faces yelled, “Surprise!”

I covered my face with my hand and immediately walked back outside. I was overcome with emotion. The tears flowed wildly. I had to wait a moment to pull myself together.

With open arms, I walked through the door. I embraced my loved ones and my age. My heart was full. It was a great Thursday.

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We never really know what’s behind the door, do we?

 

 

Memories in a Journal.

I’m always surprised by people’s ability to remember things from years past, especially things that weren’t, by any means, out of the ordinary or remarkable in any way.

Things like a casual encounter, something that was said or an outfit you wore. How do they remember these mundane details from 10, 15, 20 years ago? Do they have larger memory banks than I? Am I a terrible data collector? Do I not organize them well? Who can I speak to in the memory department to get this thing sorted out?

Honestly, I’m not sure how my brain decides what to remember and what not to remember. So I try my best to remember to write down the things I wish to remember.

In my journal there are notes of things to remember, like a funny thing my daughter said:

“I want a hot dog costume. Will you get me a hot dog costume?”

“A hot dog? Why?”

“Because I love them. No, I don’t. Yes, I do.” She argued with herself before delivering the punchline. “But vegans will be like, ‘No candy for you.'”

Or a line from one of my favorite movies, Something’s Gotta Give, which reminded me of my daily to-do list:

“Play music, cook, write, focus.”

A quote from a book I recently read, Girl, Wash Your Face by Rachel Hollis:

“God has perfect timing, and it’s highly possible that by not being where you thought you should be, you will end up exactly where you’re meant to go.”

Or how my son answers the question: What is your name?

His answer: “Am.”

 

There are so many things to remember. Things like innocence or kindness. How wonderous life is. Life lessons from tragedy or heartache. The magic and miracles of synchronicity or answered prayers. The delicate manner of the dragonfly or bird. What to do when approached by a bear. There are feelings of empathy, tenacity, courage, love and humility. So many things for a person to remember on her journey through life. Which is why I choose to write.

I write to remember.

Here’s my new memory bank:

 

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Time to make another deposit.