I went for a long walk today in an effort to clear my head. I was listening to music through my headphones when suddenly a random song came on that made my knees buckle. "Wichita Lineman" by Glen Campbell. Oh that song.
All at once I am 6 years old running around with pigtails, no front teeth and scraped knees. It's a warm summer day and I am giddy with excitement. I'm looking over at my Dad in his mid 30's and suddenly my heart aches for those days. This song, the melodic croon of his voice, the era, it just catapults me back. How is it possible that these tiny shards of memory can cut into this present moment and pull me through such deep portals of yesteryear? I don't know how it happens, but it's very real in it's raw beauty. So many sweet compilations lining my soul.
When I was 15 my Grandmother passed away in the fall of that year. Months later in the spring I came home from school one day to find my mother sitting deep in emotion. She said to me, "Today I had such strong memories from when I was a little girl, I feel so homesick for that time." I think the spring thaw had triggered her. As I listened to her talk I could see her eyes were reviewing the details of her own little girl world and her heart was left wanting. I didn't understand it all then, but I sure do now.
I think that's why I like being surrounded by so many photos and vintage pieces from my family. Perhaps I'm trying to hold on to a time and space that no longer exists in the present but is fully alive in my heart.
The irony of this story is that Glen Campbell is suffering the deep throws of Alzheimer's. His music leads me to my memories while his mind is quickly loosing grip of his own.