Writing remembrances should be easy and fun.That's how it was for me. I sat down and wrote down my origins, writing remembrances and exploring that which resonated most with me over the course of all my years. Learning to write memory journal entries can be helpful when writing your remembrances as well. Read through this story in which I wrote remembrances of my past, and consider how to write a memoir of your very own using the ideas you garner from my writing. I’m a fireworks baby. Born on the Fourth of July. Instead of going to see the fireworks the night of July 3rd, my family says they had “fireworks of their own.” 12:23 am rolled around and there I was, ready for a new day. People have told me that it makes sense that I was born on the fourth. I am always full of energy, efficiently completing important tasks so I won’t have to worry about them later. I talk fast, walk fast, and type fast. I am like a firework that goes off in the air and even though it fizzles out, another one is at the ready, eager to fly into action and provide a whole new burst of energy and excitement. It is true that kids say the darndest things. I think that they see them too. Kids utilize their senses so much more than adults do. They notice more. I am a testament to this. When I was little, my grandparents’ porch was my outlet for creativity. I saw and said things on that porch that I don’t recall seeing or saying anywhere else. I remember a fuzzy multicolored caterpillar creeping its way along the middle of the cement in front of the blue and white striped folding chair. I stared at it for about five or ten minutes, and then I was called into the house. Every day after that for at least a week, I walked out the front door onto the porch at the same time of day as when I had seen that caterpillar before, and was saddened to see that it had not returned. Another time, I saw something flying around, and, being three or four years old with a limited vocabulary, I ridiculously labeled the bug a “fy”. I obviously thought that the winged insect was a fly, but it was a bee, and my grandpa rushed me into the house and away from the impending danger of being stung. I see now why those that love you want to shield you from being stung. There are so many aspects of life that can hurt you if you aren’t careful. Many people get stung when they misuse their money. I have always been careful with my money. Never spending it on frivolous items is one characteristic that I pride myself on. Sometimes, however, you want or need something that you can’t control your urge to have. This was true when I was six years old, and I just couldn’t live without having the new VHS copy of The Little Mermaid. It seems like just yesterday that my mom and I went to Kmart and walked up and down the aisles. I wanted to go over to the electronics section, because that is where they kept the movies, of course. And that’s another thing. My fascination with movies and TV is a vital thing to know about me. Writing this down makes me think that maybe this is where it all started. This is my first true memory of entertainment being a necessity for me. I picked up the VHS, walked over to my mom, and said to her, in a somewhat pleading tone, that if she let me buy this video, with my own money of course, I would never, ever, watch another movie as long as I lived. I was true to my word about some of it, at least. I did pay with my own money. The movie promise seems like a joke now. I was six years old and unaware of the many wonderful videos that I would be sure to want to watch in the future. The Little Mermaid was just the beginning. Music is something else that I just can’t steer myself away from. Ever since I was a little kid, I have really enjoyed Michael Jackson’s music. Bad, The Way You Make Me Feel, and Thriller were my three favorite songs. I even had a little red leather jacket with fringe on the front of it that I used to dance around in and sing his songs. I was Michael Jackson for Halloween one year, and I remember my grandparents buying me the cassette of Black or White for my birthday when I was eight or nine. It was the greatest present -- exactly what I wanted. The Beach Boys are another group that I still, to this day, am crazy about. I had a Beach Boys birthday party one year, and one of my presents was a trip to see them in concert at the Pine Knob music theatre. That concert was my first ever, and was also the first of about four or five Beach Boys excursions. Their music is light and fun, and it warms my heart to know that music like this is still popular and fun to listen to. Speaking of birthdays, there aren’t many people who know off the tops of their heads when their half-birthdays are. All there is to figuring it out is to count six months from the date of your birthday. January fourth – that’s mine. My family is different. We celebrate half-birthdays. We make a half cake, stick a candle in it, and make a wish. And why not? It’s an excuse to eat cake. If the Mad Hatter in Alice in Wonderland can celebrate un-birthdays, half-birthdays should be considered more real, don’t you think? Traditions such as half-birthdays are like those Mastercard commercials. After all is said and done, the final product is priceless. Another such tradition that many families share is the annual family picnic. My grandma’s family is from Canada -- Hamilton, Ontario to be exact. So every year up until I was about ten or eleven, we drove into Canada either the last week of July or first week of August. We stopped in London, at a darling little park called Storybook Gardens. Many of the nursery rhymes and children’s stories that you grew up with were represented. Old McDonald and Humpty Dumpty led the way to the back of the park where Canadian geese flanked the pathway to a playground. We’d play badminton and baseball, and trek down to the water where we’d paddleboat, floating dangerously close to the waterfall as the giggles of children on the merry-go-round echoed in the distance. And even though the waterfall was a mere four or five feet high from my estimation, it was scary nonetheless, especially to a little kid. Heights are not one of my strong points, as the last story proves. However, one of my dreams for as long as I can remember has been to be able to fly. I used to have dreams that I was Peter Pan and I was flying around Never Never Land. Or I’d be flying around my house, up and down the stairs, through the living room and kitchen, only to wind up lying in my bed, and waking up to the sad realization that my dream was surely not a reality. Another part of this flying dream was to be a witch. Not one of those ones who wears a pointy hat and flies around on her broomstick. Although the flying part of that doesn’t sound half bad. I wanted to be a witch like Samantha on Bewitched or Sabrina on Sabrina, the Teenage Witch. Even though those two shows were made decades apart, they proved the same point. Witches are cool, and with the point of a finger or the twitch of a nose, magic can happen. It just seemed exciting and fun when I was little, and if I do say so myself, it still sounds that way. The closest I ever got to actually flying without the use of a plane came when I either tried to jump off of my porch and wave my arms rapidly, only to land feet first on the ground, ready to try again, or when my dad flew me around the house as Mighty Mouse. Remember him, the mouse that was so strong and powerful, and, dare I say it, mighty? He was just as he was named. Daring and impressively attired, he flew from place to place, and my dad flew me around while Mighty Mouse’s theme song played. “Here I come to save the day,” I’d say expectantly, waiting for my dad to wrap his arms around me and whisk me into the air to help Mighty Mouse solve whatever trouble was going to arise on his show that day. All of those hopes and dreams I had as a little kid still resonate with me to this day. It’s fun to remember, to create nostalgia, to know that those memories mean something and may be inspiration for something new to occur or arise in future encounters. I create memories every day as I live and breathe. I live life and don’t just observe it. I notice things rather than letting them pass me by. I surprise myself as I make realizations and preserve thoughts. When you’re blessed with as precious a gift as memory, you cherish each moment, making it easier to differentiate the times when those memories stuck all the more. You may not have realized it then, but as time passes, having danced around like Michael Jackson and having bought The Little Mermaid with your own money at the tender age of six – these are the items that really strike a chord with you and insist that you do all you can possibly do to engage in one simple act: remembering.
To return from Writing Remembrances to the
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