A Day in the Life

Tag: memories

  • Times Change

    I was born in the early 90s. Growing up we drank from hoses, ran around all day in the summer and curfew was when the streetlights came on. You knew where all your friends were by the bikes piled together on front lawns, and the way to call a friend was calling the house phone and praying a parent wasn’t on it already. There are a lot of moments I miss about those times, they seemed simpler. My parents did what they could to raise two children that never liked to stay in one spot for long. We visit museums, parks and playgrounds, and historical sites, that way we were at least learning while we had our fun. They instilled manners, the need for communication, and how to be as civilized as possible.

    When I was a teenager I went from being the youngest child, to being the middle child. When my younger sibling was born, a lot in the house changed. Change wasn’t a bad thing, but it all was new to me. My mom needed extra help with the baby and I happily obliged, knowing that in the long run I would be helping to raise a life, as well as get some practice in for the children I wanted when I grew up. It ended up being beneficial all around, but as my sibling got older, I started running into some complications. “You never let us get away with that when we were there age.” Became a constant statement from me. I understood that they were the baby of the family, but there were situations that my parents let slide that my older sibling and I would have gotten in trouble for. Talking back all the time, major tantrums, among other things. We would have been placed in time out in a hot minute, but my parents seemed to let it go. When I asked I tended to get the answer “Well times are different now, this is parenting. It may not be what you are used to, but they will be okay”.

    They were right in the long run, mostly, but it still was odd to see everything so different. How emotions and communication were handled, or ignored. How outside play time was exchanged for staying inside all day with video games, TV, and whatever other electronics my sibling could get there hands on. Technology isn’t a bad thing, but I wanted the kid to get some sunshine. My parents did try, don’t get me wrong. They tried instilling a love of nature and respect for the world outside the house, it didn’t seem to take, nor did my younger sibling didn’t care about it. I moved in with my partner when my younger sibling was about 7 years old, went a state away and would visit when I could. But between my and my partners jobs, it became difficult to visit as often as I wanted.

    I would still hear about my sibling and how they were doing, how they were growing into a preteen and all the problems that came with that. Every preteen to teenager can be a handful, but my mom would call me for advice on occasion because even she felt like she was out of her element. “You’ve raised two kids already and went through this, why is this any different?” I would ask, thinking it would be cut and dry like when I was younger. “Well times are different.” She’d answer, oh, that line again. But this part stuck with me “I can’t handle these things the way that I did with you guys, I could be labeled a bad parent.” Wait. . . What? What was wrong with telling your kid that what they did was wrong, putting them in time out or grounding them? How is that being a bad parent? Looking back on my childhood, none of the ways my parents raised us ever came across as being bad. They were teaching us how to be better people, how to be ready for the world outside our little home. But apparently in the 2010s all that translated to being too harsh on your child, or being over reactive. It all made me think about what I would do if/when I became a parent.

    This year, I did that, I became a mom. On top of that, due to unforeseen circumstances, I had to move back in with my parents. I needed help with the baby, among other things, and was grateful to their welcoming arms. My younger sibling is now 17, almost an adult, and once again, everything was new to me. I had been away for almost 10 years, and in doing so, had to hear second hand about everything. Now being home and being front and center with it all was a whole different ball game. “I would have gotten grounded for that” is a new repeated saying. I thought I had attitude when I was a teenager, but they blow me out of the water. I expected the usual statement. That times are different now, but I didn’t. My mom and dad would give a small smile and say “I know. We are doing what we can.” And it hit me. Years of trying to be ‘good parents’ by the new standards had made them lax in ways that they didn’t want to be. That being afraid of not keeping up with the times would make them a bad parent. But in turn, it made it harder to be the good parent. Trying to be gentler and and following along with new standards had dulled instincts, and made it more difficult to wrangle in a dramatic and overly stimulated teenager.

    As a group we have been working together. I remind my parents of the values that they raised us on, and help them to try and use that with the teachings of now. I work as a buffer between my sibling and them as well, defusing situations for either side. Sometimes I am on my parents side, reminding my sibling how much is done for them and how much they take for granted. Sometimes I am on their side, helping to explain something calmer, or to break down thought processes to my parents. It’s a constant back and forth, but one that we are starting to find common ground for in the process.

    Being on the outside for so long, had given me a different perspective, but also made me think about what I want to do as a mom. Looking at my baby girl, I think about what kind of parent I want to be. I want to be gentle when I can, but stern when it’s needed, I want to instill that my daughter can express herself and her emotions, but that she also needs to communicate those emotions properly. I understand every kid and teenager can catch attitude, and to an extent it will be allowed, but attitude with cruelty will not be tolerated. Likewise, I want my daughter to be independent and have an understanding of the world around her, but I also want her to know that she can come to me for help whenever she needs it. I want to combine the values of now while incorporating some of the teachings and values that I was raised on. It’s like walking a tight rope. I may stumble a few times, even lose my balance, but in the long run I don’t want to lose sight of my goal. To raise my daughter to be the best she can be, and do the best that I can.

  • Memory Struggle

    I have had problems with memory for years. Sometimes I can remember something down to the smallest detail, and it stays with me forever. Then there are the memories that fade as soon as they are created, locked away for what seems like eternity without any dust being disturbed. It got irritating to me, to remember something so vividly from childhood that didn’t actually matter or have any tangible significance. Yet not be able to recall the name that was just told to me 5 times in the same amount of time, or remember the important conversation that I had two days ago that I need to reflect upon.

    As time went on, and I got older, the frustration grew. I did whatever I could to try and make memories stick, to be able to train my brain to log and keep all the information. But what are you to do when you don’t have a camera? It seemed like nothing was working. No matter how hard I tried to memorize faces, names, moments in time that I wanted to cherish. It seemed fruitless, my brain only retaining what it wanted to. Then one day I had been gifted an ornament for Christmas. It was given to me as we put the tree up and started decorating. A crystal humming bird from my grandmother, It was beautiful. Instead of putting it on the tree right away, I carried it around, holding it like I would lose it forever if I placed it down for a second. By the end of the night I finally relinquished it to the tree and marveled at how it sparkled in the lights. The memory never left me, nor that ornament. I can think back on the day with fondness at any time, but when I hold the ornament, I relive the moment vividly, and it makes me smile.

    From that point on I began to use physical objects to help me hold memory. I would pour my thoughts and feeling into those objects, feeling like I would leave little pieces of time locked away inside them. Doing so I could touch objects throughout my home and experience a walk down memory lane for anything I wanted. As happy as it made me to be able to do it, it also had a lot of problems. As time goes on a house can get cluttered, items can break, and moving makes it hard to take everything with you. Items need to be let go. But when I pick them up, I feel the memories and relive them one by one, making it harder to let go of the item. A fear set in, what if I get rid of the item and the memory goes with it. I won’t be able to access it or enjoy it anymore. I didn’t want to become a pack rat, and I wanted to be able to make room for new. Something had to be done.

    There are still some objects that I will never relinquish, ones that I can never bring myself to get rid of. A key, a special stone, a butterfly charm, a ring. These objects bring many memories, not just one. There are other senses that can be associated with them, but the physical object brings back so many thoughts and feelings that I would rather have the object to touch to be able to sort through them all. I want to be able to access these on demand, so I can continue to learn from the memories, not just think on them fondly.

    Despite the anxiety of letting objects go, I manage to do so over and over. You know what I found? I may not have been able to access the memory on demand anymore, but it still existed. I could still recall them with a little conversational coaxing, or by a smell or song. It wasn’t actually storing memories in the objects, I just focused so intently and associated a memory with something, and it would be locked in. Now as I raise my daughter and watch her grow, I know I’m going to want to remember things as much as possible. Anytime I’m in a moment that I know I will want to remember, I use me senses. What do I hear as this moment is happening, what do I smell? The rock song on the radio or the smell of my partners’ cologne anchor in. What do I see in the little eyes staring back at me, how do I feel smiling down at her? My reflection in her green blue eyes smiles back with warmth and a light that radiates through my soul. Its these little associations that will help me remember what I want to. It may not always be when I want to remember it, and may drift in and out, but those associations will help bring it back again. That song, the cologne, feeling that warmth in my chest, seeing that spark of happiness reflecting, all can be a positive trigger to bring back precious moments.

    For now that is enough, to be able to retain what I can without being afraid to let go of objects and keep pushing forward. To work with my brain and do what I can for my memory. Each step I take may be difficult, and it may not always work. But I feel that I will at least be able to hold on to more than I used to. To me that is worth it, for my daughter, so I can recall her younger times when she is older, and for myself, so I can relive my life in the future.