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Interstellar Adventure
Adventure: the pursuit of life — Daniel Roy Wiarda

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One Moment

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

While I'm in the theme of posting things that I thought about awhile back, I figured I might as well respond to a question I saw. If you could step back in time and re-experience a moment in your life what would that experience be. You can't change it, just experience it. Why did you choose that moment? It's similar to Bone's Groundhog Day post. Except there's nothing I would or could change about this day. I picked this day because it's probably the most perfect day I can imagine.
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A random summer day. Perhaps I'm 10 or 11 or 12. My mom, dad, sisters and brother have driven down to Friendswood to visit my great-grandparents. In the morning, the house is cool with the airconditioning running. My great-grandparents always kept the temperature pretty high when we weren't there so they'd have a lower electricity bill. I tiptoe out of the room so I don't wake my sister. The morning light is just beginning to filter in from behind the lace curtains. I sit down in the hallway, pulling my night shirt over my legs, and just listen to my great-grandfather work in the kitchen. I can smell the coffee. I listen to him crack the eggs in the bowl. I listen to him use a fork to mix the eggs, the metal clinking against the side of the colored Pyrex bowl. Bacon is sizzling in the cast-iron skillet on the gas stove. I hear the refridgerator open and close. My great-grandmother comes back in with the dogs. The dogs head back to the office, tags jingling on their collars, toenails clicking on the linoleum. My great-grandmother comes out into the living room and sees me sitting in the hall. Good morning! she sings. Come have a glass of juice. I follow her out into the breakfast room. She fills a tiny juice glass with orange juice and I sip on it. I ask my great-grandma if I can go outside and pick some morning glories for the breakfast table. I run out on the concrete drive in my bare feet, through the dew-soaked grass and pluck several blooms from the bush cascading over the fence. My sister and my mom trickle in. My great-grandfather finishes the hotcakes. Eat up! he said. I've got more on the griddle! My sister and I bet each other how many hotcakes we can eat. At least a dozen! I insist. With my pancakes, I drink the sweet-cream milk my great-grandfather purchased that morning. Eventually, we sit back, stuffed, eyes glazed. Was it good? asked my great-grandfather. Oh yes grandpa! we answered. The afternoon was slow. I rocked in the rocking chair. My sister and I went to play outside. The air was thick and humid. The grass in the front was a bit tall. The cicadas were singing in the trees. We played hide and seek. We plucked the seed pods off the tree from out front. We peeled the pods apart, seeing who could leave all the seeds in their little nooks. We'd scoop all the seeds together, and then grind them up. Later, we walked down to Mary's Crossing. We ran back and forth across the one-car wooden bridge that crossed Mary's Creek, listing to the way our feet thudded against the planks. We threw stones in the water, trying to skip the rocks across the top. Slowly, we wandered back to the house for lunch and maybe a nap. I read or colored or looked through the antique photo albums. I looked through the albums as if it were the first time I'd seen them. Daugerrotype photos of my great-great-grandparents...and their parents. Photos of my great-grandparents as kids. I studied the names listed so I wouldn't forget who they were and how I was related to them. We went out for dinner. My great-grandpa wanted to go to Luby's. Get the cripple sign out of our car Lass so your mom can park close at the mall. After dinner, my mom, great-grandmother and I played Scrabble. They wouldn't let me spell any two, three or four-letter words. All my words had to be five letters or more. Otherwise I couldn't play. I didn't win though. My great-grandma won. Before bed, I took a bath. Even though it was the summer, I made my great-grandpa light the gas-heater in the bathroom. I soaked in the tub, listening to gas in the heater burn. My sister knocked on the door and yelled at me to hurry up. It was her turn. I put on my night shirt and my mom brushed my hair. I laid in bed, under the cool, soft cotton sheets. My hair was still wet. I listened to the crickets chirping in the back yard. I could hear my great-grandma out in the kitchen doing dishes. I couldn't wait to wake up for biscuits the next morning.
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3/01/2006 11:53:00 AM :: ::
8 Comments:
  • What a wonderful memory, thank you for sharing. Isn't it funny how our most content memories are usually as children...shows how much growing up affects your way of living life!

    By Anonymous Claire, at 3/01/2006 02:53:00 PM

     


  • all these good memories that you have, wrapped up in one perfect day. if only.

    By Blogger Better Safe Than Sorry, at 3/01/2006 03:23:00 PM

     


  • Wow, what a vivid description of a perfect day. Sweet.

    This is an interesting and fun exercise. I'll have to think about it, although I don't know if I'll blog it.

    By Anonymous abbynormal, at 3/01/2006 04:42:00 PM

     


  • I like the memory. Maybe I'll do one like this.

    By Blogger Coyote Mike, at 3/01/2006 06:36:00 PM

     


  • that is exactly what days at their house were like. i would give almost anything to go back and relive one of those days.

    By Anonymous Brittany, at 3/01/2006 10:26:00 PM

     


  • I loved your post. So relaxing to read. Thank you!

    By Blogger mommy d, at 3/01/2006 10:33:00 PM

     


  • What a great memory. It made me feel all warm and toasty inside. There's nothing like the safe feeling you get as a child. Nothing can be wrong, your taken care of, loved and fed well! There's nothing to do but play. And I'm hungry for breakfast!!

    By Blogger Carnealian, at 3/02/2006 06:57:00 AM

     


  • I love those types of memories, they're perfect.

    By Blogger Jolynn, at 3/02/2006 10:43:00 AM

     


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