Memory Lane

This afternoon I went for a bike ride. A long ride, without a dog in tow, which means I was able to admire everything around me. I expected to observe the world around me. The people. cars, beach, and birds. What I wasn't expecting was the flooding of so many memories.

First, I rode by my old church building - and I recalled the weeks and weeks I taught Sunday School. A very happy memory. I was about 17. I felt deeply safe and connected. That was before I knew that even Christians could be back-bitting, hard-hearted people. Clearly, I wasn't reading my Bible with enough care.

And then I recalled the lovely little boy I had most weekends during that time. He was a sweet fellow. I loved play parenting on the weekends. I would sometimes buy him clothes. Which was such fun. I even bought a carrying front pack for him. That was before I knew about the Eden Mei-Tai wrap. Or that most front pack carriers place a lot of pressure on the pelvis, and that the Moby, Eden, or the African carrier is better.

I little farther along, I rode through my great-grandmother's mobile home park. And I had this clear memory of using my great-grandmother's wheelchair to race around the park with my older brother. He was always like that - making boring things, like visiting a stuffy home after a sad end - fun. This morning I had a long, delightful talk with his wife. A good friend and better sister. I miss them both.

I guess this got me in a memory kind of mood, because awhile latter, passing Twin Lakes Beach, I remembered the parties my friends had there. Most weekends I was working, and thus, couldn't make it. Part of me was disappointed then, to be missing all the fun, but not all of me was, even then. Now, looking back, I'm sure working was a better thing to be working.

Then I was riding past a Mexican market. And it made me think of popsicles. I love popsicles! And that reminded me of a time when it was hot, so hot, and I along with my sisters went to visit my very first brother-in-law at work. He was a wonderful man, full of attitude and fun. This particular day, on his break we walked over to the gas station which neighbored his place of work and ate popsicles together. I miss that man.

And finally, as I passed a little shop I remembered dropping off the Great Exchange with my nearly-second-mother, while watching the children in the car. That was a fun time. Driving all around Santa Cruz. Talking. Eating slurpees in the heat.

I as I peddled "home" (I'm still house-sitting after all) I reflected that many of these memories are sweet. Even the deep longing pain to see my first brother-in-law here, now, on earth was gentle eased knowing that I will see him again someday. Even though it will never be here. Perhaps we won't eat popsicles together, but who knows? Maybe we will. I'm looking forward to finding out.