I can close my eyes and see the endless sea, the vast forests, and the majestic mountains reaching to the sky. I can smell the salt, the pine, and the wildflowers that grow in the meadows.
I can reach into my memories and pull out pictures of a simple life when Mom stood at the kitchen window watching me play and Dad reading the Sunday paper his unlit pipe in the clay ashtray I made for him.
I can walk down the streets of my youth and remember each store and soda shop where I went as a teen, listening to the jukebox play my favorite songs. I stop at the ball field and can hear the crowd's roar and feel the parents' pride under the Friday night lights.
I see the day I boarded the bus to boot camp, leaving the boy behind and becoming a man. I remember seeing the ship that would be my home for three years and marveling at its size and power.
Memories can take me anywhere I wish to go and to anybody I want to see, all in a fleeting but very real thought. I sometimes find myself so deep into the thought that I'm actually there, smelling breakfast cooking as Mom scurries about the kitchen making school lunches and Dad reminds me today is trash day. I see myself getting on the school bus and seeing the faces of my friends so very young.
I've always thought that I lived two lives: the present and the hidden memories I can recall and put pen to paper for the world to see.
The best thing about memories is that you get to choose the ones that brought you joy and happiness. These will always be there when you call upon them. And the bad memories will only stay as long as I allow them to.
My wonderful life of memories has been a gift that I cherish beyond anything else, and I hope they remain with me until I am but a memory.
Mike 2025
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