Dormant Memories

Daily Prompt:  Dormant

As I have gotten older I find I spend more time in my memories.  It’s what you do when you spend time with your grandchildren.  You tell them about when their parents were growing up.  And, at the risk of really sounding ancient, you tell them about your own childhood and experience their incredulous expressions of disbelief.

Sometimes, a vague sense comes over me that I might not be remembering an actual memory of my past, but rather a memory of a dream.  Not the kind of dream that pushes you to do, have, or be, but the kind you actually live in your sleep.

One particular “memory”, which is not really a good one, has haunted me for a very long time.  It surfaced maybe twenty years ago.  If it is indeed a memory it surely explains a lot of why I feel the way I do about some things.  If it was a dream,  I find myself wondering why I would have dream’t such a disturbing event in my life.

In the end, we are the product of our environment and it really doesn’t matter if the “memory” is one that has been dormant or if it is actually a dream because it becomes part of us anyway.

What shapes our personality is the good and bad experiences we live through. Understanding our past helps us in our present and future if we are wise enough to learn from these past experiences.   Often our dreams are just a way to show us our fears which we need to face so we don’t become crippled by them.

Wanda

 

 

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The Sealing

Stream of Consciousness July 22, 2017:  Sealing/Ceiling

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Many years ago not long after I was married my mom became ill with cancer. She was unable to stay home by herself when dad was working, so she came to live with us. We put a second floor onto our house so mom was able to have her own little place with us.

Gary and I had the shell, ceilings and plumbing done for us, but we finished everything else ourselves. I learned more about construction than I ever wanted to know. I learned how to build, spackle, paint and seal walls. We installed doors. We laid carpet and tile. It was quite the learning experience.

When we were finished, it looked like we had actually known what we were doing. My dad had had a construction business at one time  and he spent many hours teaching Gary and I what we needed to know.

After mom passed away, we began working on the downstairs because at that point we had seven bedrooms and we didn’t need that many. The first thing we did was to convert the original living room into a large dining room. Then we renovated our kitchen, downstairs bathroom and opened up the three downstairs bedrooms into one large family room. We took more walls down and moved them then there was originally in the house. By the time we were done with the house, it looked nothing like it started out.

After the kids moved out to go to college, I had a fall which led to complications and I was no longer able to use the stairs. I was forced to live in the family room for a couple of years. As time went on the cold weather also became a problem for me. So, the decision was made to pack up, sell the house and move to a warmer climate with a more practical house.

We lived in that house for twenty seven years. We raised our family in that house. Our home was the gathering place for all of the kids. I never thought I would leave our home and it saddened me that we had to. I was afraid I would lose all of my memories when I left my home. Then I realized that memories don’t reside in things located in a specific geography. They live in your heart. They travel with you and keep you feeling safe and warm no matter where you go.  They are sealed in your past, present and future.

Wanda