Musical memories

I wanted to do this post before I forgot my train of thought.

After several weeks of not playing any music for us, Claire picked up her fiddle and tested the piano again yesterday. This morning she played a song that took me back about three years. She played Fur Elise. I was going through my Elsie Dinsmore books while rocking a baby Luke. I asked her to play other songs that she was learning at the time: Emerald Tocatta, Chariots of Fire, and Prelude in C. Each time I could have almost pointed to the chapter and book I was on at the time she played those most. It happens to me a lot; all I have to do is to hear or smell something and I could tell you what I was doing when a certain memory connected with that happened.

Those couple of months before we moved, and after Luke was born is like a different world, misty-like. When thinking about that time my memory inevitably takes me to the fourth of July 2003. It was days before we were to move, and everything that could be was packed up, but the family was to gather at our house. Right as lunch was being served to everyone, Luke woke up. For the remainder of the meal, I got to hold him. I took my meal afterwards alone. I like remembering those months because, though busy, they were necessarily happy. They were tinged with saddness for leaving the only home we'd ever known, but that only make the time we had more precious. Also during that time, I was Luke's prefered companion. Before Luke was even born is dark, but quiet. :) I hardly remember anything about then, without a promting.

The smell of cinamon and orange rounds and other spices simmering on the stove reminds me of several Christmas's. Fudge and custard takes me back to a couple of birthdays when that was my requested "cake". Seeing dead ladybugs in the window, makes me feel just like I did one year back a Sturbridge. When Kyle bangs out a one-note melody "Ode to Joy" on the piano, it is just like he did it when he was a little thing with huge eyes, running around in cowboy boots. The taste of orange cream cicles reminds me of the caffeteria at the school I attended for kindergarten and first grade. I won't even go into the memories that I see when I think of that school.

I'd better stop or I'll go on forever and ever through the years with this road of memories.

To think, I can do all that, and I'm not even 16 yet! I'd better warn Mama and Daddy not to do this! = D