SPONTANEOUS FRIDAY

Memories, Music and Milk

milk

Memories are fascinating, aren’t they? I have often wondered why we remember the things we do?

Why is it I can remember a trivial little thing from 1980 but I have no clue what I had for dinner last Tuesday?

Music, movies, colors and smell all ignite a memory. Give me sawdust and I’m a kid in my grandfather’s shop. Fill the kitchen with the smell of roast beef and suddenly it’s Sunday night and tomorrow’s school.

 

Games

A couple of weeks ago I decided to play a game. What is the earliest memory I can think of and how early was it?

I tried music but that wouldn’t do. Those early memories had little effect with music. So I had to come up with something else.

I looked at pictures of people, I even tried a whiff of sawdust but nothing from my early days came to mind.

I gave up on the game and moved on. No since trying to force a memory if it just wasn’t happening.

But a few days later an odd thing happened.

 

Milk and Memories

I came home from the store and was putting milk in the refrigerator. In that moment my mind pushed forward and released a hidden memory.

Suddenly I’m riding in my grandfather’s old grey truck. I could not see over the dashboard. The ride was bumpy. The sky blue and I wanted to stand to see where we were going.

The truck stopped and the passenger door creaked open. It was a long way down and I remember his big hands placing me on the ground.

The smell of farm filled the air.

farm 1

The Giant Milk Jug

I could see cows, hey, goats and cats. An old tractor stood in the distance and stranger waved from a farm house. 

I remember a giant glass container that appeared to be as big as me. It sat next to my feet and appeared just as confused as I. We stood inside a giant cold room where I stood near something that looked like a facet.

I suddenly felt excitement followed by anticipation. I looked up to my grandfather as he smiled and gave orders to turn the knob.

Milk suddenly appeared as my eyes grew wide watching the container fill to the top. Suddenly his hand appeared and stopped it, inches from flowing over.

It was amazing and in a way it still is.

 

My Aunt to the rescue

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I was curious how old this memory was so I called the only person who might know.

At first my aunt didn’t believe me. That was a long time ago, she explained. That was old man Pearson’s barn and dad use to get free milk every week.

As I gave more detail she understood it was a memory and an old one at that. Her best guess I was three, maybe younger.

I found it hard to believe. I never thought we formed memories at such a young age but if that’s true, why that particular memory?

Why was the flowing milk so special? The cows, the goats and the smell? Why were they able to survive in this head of mind?

Memories are amazing, aren’t they? They come to visit like an old friend. Some stay for a while others leave and never come back.

Whatever they do they carry a journey from a long ago time that is special and full of wonder. It is a mystery I will never tire of.

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Happy Friday Everyone!!!

 

34 thoughts on “SPONTANEOUS FRIDAY

  1. I’m fascinated by memories, too. One of the best books I’ve read in the past year is Gene Wolfe’s “The Soldier of the Mist”, where the main character has both retro- and anterograde amnesia – he can’t remember the past, and he can’t form any new memories either. But despite (or maybe even because?) of it, the book is really colourful, full of joy and wonder. Childlike, in a way. Makes me wonder if memories can’t be an oppressive load sometimes, preventing us from seeing what’s going on around us…

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    1. When we are young we are a sponge. Our little minds collect all sorts of thought to be played at a later date. Thank you for stopping by. Always fun talking to you.

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  2. Gosh, my first memory was around 3 years old, too. I was alone in the kitchen at our old house in Soledad, climbing up on the lower shelves as I recall (maybe trying to get up on the counter?) and I saw a plane flying low outside the window over the rooftops in the distance. I remember the level of light in the kitchen, the shape of the window, the plane. I remember being slightly awed and very curious.

    I don’t know why that’s the oldest memory. Just is.

    My second oldest was at the same house, in the living room, and others in the room (I don’t remember who; I was the youngest of 7) were watching some old adventure show on a little black and white TV. The lead character had a mask. I remember asking who it was and someone said “Captain America.”

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    1. Isn’t that amazing. Why that memory? How come that particular moment stuck with you. Was it the plane or the light?. Something grabbed hold and continues to play out. I can see the Captain American part. Anything with super heroes or cowboys stayed with me.

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  3. That’s a nice remembrance Bryan – I’ll bet your grandfather took you by the hand as you walked from the old pickup truck to that “magic machine” that dispensed milk.

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  4. Wonderful memory! Your post reminds me of one early memory of mine – growing up next to my grandparent’s farm in the house my father grew up in. Mom would send me into the fields with a knife to cut asparagus for dinner – I was probably four or five. I have always loved asparagus but thought of it as little more than a weed until I was an adult and saw how much it cost at the grocery store! Thanks for triggering that memory ❤️

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  5. I’ve often played that game too of trying to remember my first memory. I pin-pointed it back to when I was 3 years old too. I also didn’t think that was possible and always assumed my first memories came at age 4. In high school, my yearbook quote was “If you can’t remember something, it’s not important.” I guess that’s why we can’t remember what we ate for dinner a few days ago.

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    1. Exactly, Paul. Clearly what I had for dinner last Tuesday wasn’t exactly thrilling. 🙂

      Now it’s your turn my good man. Do a blog post on your first memory. I’ll bet there’s a story behind it.

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  6. That can be a problem. I agree. Sometimes we do get the two mixed up. This is where my aunt Betty came in. The details that I gave her were things she never mentioned. I think I got lucky on that.

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  7. Wow, this is really amazing. Thank you for posting this, I’m sure you’ve spurred so many people into their first memories and that is special if I do say so myself. My first memory is of being in the car with my maternal grandfather (a salty old WWII Army Vet) the car was packed with all of the cousins (about five of us). I could barely see over the windshield, he sat the younger ones next to him and his car smelled of Old Spice a cigarette smoke. I was about 4 or 5 years old and he would take all of us to go see a baseball game. It was a local minor league team called the Diablos and we’d go to Dudley field and sit in the stands on old wooden benches and watch the game with him. We’d cheer every time he did and repeat everything he yelled (sometimes not child friendly language, lol). He’d buy us hot dogs (because it was 10 cent hot dogs) and lemonade (he didn’t let us drink sodas) and then he’d buy all of us two scoops of ice cream that were served in small plastic bowls shaped like base ball caps. I had collected a couple and I wish I still had them. That is probably the first memory I have, thanks for this wonderful story!

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    1. That is wonderful. I could see the picture you were drawing. An old car. Little you trying to see where you’re going. Sitting in the bleachers doing whatever grandpa did and finishing the day with ice cream.

      You need to do a post on this. Expand this story of your grandpa. I’d love to hear more.

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  8. memories are my nemesis because I have a Dory brain so I’m constantly worried that I’m losing all my memories! I often force myself at night to do what you did to try to remember the oldest memory I can. I often wonder why what seem to be trivial memories are ingrained in my brain. 🙂 Maybe the flowing milk was a special moment because of your grandfather 🙂

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