Category Archives: autobiographical

My very first memory is of the Pacific Ocean. I can still remember the clumps of long green grass lining the twisting sandy path to the beach. It’s that path that I actually remember. It was from there that you could first see the ocean and its wide expanse.

I remember seeing it walking down the path. I remember seeing it returning up that same path as the day was ending. The ocean was a deep purple. The sky was pink.

It has been nearly twenty-five years since I last beheld the Pacific with my own eyes. Someday I will again.

It’s been weeks since the river was actually a river. Right now it is just a string of occasional large puddles separated by tall grasses growing in the depression of an otherwise flat and continuous plain.

Two children holding tadpole nets walk down what used to be the center of the river, looking for one of the few remaining puddles that still contains aquatic life.

A man with a bucket full of fish-food rides his bike from one puddle to the next, distributing the store-bought pellets as he sees fit. “Just trying to do my part,” he says as he passes.

How many times did I travel down this road as a child, bored, with my head pressed against the minivan window? Nothing has changed in twenty years. Nothing. Small town America remains frozen in time.

I lived on a house on top of a hill. It was pinker back then, and the trees were smaller. From the backyard you could see all the way to Kansas, a clock tower in Fort Leavenworth.

Down the other slope lay a cemetery where we would often take short cuts through. I never felt scared to walk through that graveyard except when there was fog.

~~~
Inspired by Aaron Bleyaert’s own trip down memory lane via Google Maps Street View.

Nathan and I are talking about stages of life.

“Then there’s the point in life where you forget everything you say immediately afterward,” I say, “I can’t wait!”

“You can’t wait to be a vegetable?” Haylea says.

“No! I’m don’t want to be in a coma.” I say.

“So, what? Dementia? Alzheimer’s?” Haylea is aghast.

“Yeah! That will be so awesome!”

Autumn laughs audibly despite her lost voice. “Your eyes shined in the light when you looked up and said that!”

I tilt my head back up. “I can’t wait till I’m old!”

“Thanks for the help―” my voice falters. I’ve forgotten his name.

What’s his name again? Dave. I’m certain of it. What else would it be? Maybe Ron? I know a lot of Rons. Maybe he’s one of them.

Well, I have to say something.

“―D-Dave.” I finish my sentence.

Dave smiles and walks away.