1300. The child I was is just one breath away from me. ~Sheniz Janmohamed, a Canadian born writer

…little faces sweetened laughter
bubbling- – dappled golden jeweled memories
scatter…
delightful as butterfly wings carry
wishful mind explosions
in brilliantly colored balloons,
a to and fro gliding spin..
.
~Excerpted lines from a poem by Sue Ashby posted on https://scvincent.com/2016/11/14/tire-swing-dreams-by-sue-ashby/

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Sunday afternoon, I was working in a flowerbed in my front yard and listening to young children laughing as they played across the street. It reminded me so much of times when my two sisters and I played as children in California. Those were halcyon days indeed, and I yet have such fond and venerated memories of those early days. Then on Monday I read Ashby’s poem above and again the revered memories came flooding back in the kind of “wishful mind explosions” of which she spoke. On top of that, when we drove by a local school yesterday, the children were out playing on the playground, another prized memory of mine, and so boom, the “brilliantly colored balloons” glided even higher still. And now today two photo images I found on Pinterest sent the lovely balloons soaring almost to the moon and back! And no, some elderly dementia has not set in (she say’s tongue in cheek); these things have just helped me touch base with my inner child, a personage with whom I frequently like to visit. In fact it was a healing mentor decades ago who told me that it was a must to not only stay in touch with our “inner child” but it’s also essential to feed and nourish that child on a regular basis! Thus in these troubling times especially, it’s of utmost importance to remember and reconnect with the childhood “joy and intense happiness” as well as the “real meaning of life” spoken about in the lines below. Like Janmohamed and me, he too seems to believe that we should always remain “just one breath away” from childhood. Why so? I believe it’s because it is the part of us closest to the sacred breath of life blown into us by Yahweh, the Maker of heaven and earth.

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When I look back at that freedom of childhood,
which is in a way infinite, and at all the joy
and the intense happiness, now lost,
I sometimes think that childhood is where
the real meaning of life is located,
and that we, adults, are its
servants – that that’s our purpose.
~Karl Ove Knausgaard

Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness, And for His wonderful works to the children of men! ~Psalm 107:8  ✝

**All images via Pinterest; collage by Natalie. The images of the girls swinging on the beach is a especially fond memory of mine.

1209. Spinning round and round, everything was magical and gold. ~Karen Aba

The Carousel
the carousel turns in the carnival park
on a pier further down on the beach
the gold ring is its greatest allure

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the spirited ponies, animals quaint,
all snorting and rearing whirl round
and round in their brightly colored paints

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the spinning floor stops for us to get on
and after we choose our mounts, the
ride starts with the enchanting sounds

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up and down, round and round,
prance the horses while the calliope sings and
we go ’round waiting to reach for the rings

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sometimes we miss them as they fly by
or they’re too far out of reach but there’s
always that chance for the second try
~Edited and adapted poem
by Soul Survivor

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Who knows what triggers memories? Even childhood memories can be aroused a half a century or more after their occurrence. Today was such a day. The house where we lived California was just a half a block from the Pacific Ocean. Though I was forbidden to cross the busy street to get over to the beach by myself, the allure was just too great to resist for one such as me. And then quite a ways down the beach was a place called Rainbow Pier which had midway with a Merry-Go-Round and other amusements. And of course I was forbidden to go there by myself too. But again the lure of that Merry-Go-Round with its gold ring that if caught garnered one a free ride was just too enticing for me. Thankfully, the Lord was watching over me and no harm came to me the numerous times that I heeded not parental rules. I’m the oldest of 3 girls and not too long ago, we were reminiscing about our California days, and I told them of my stealing away alone to the beach and the midway. Both were surprised, and the middle one was indignant that I had not invited either of them to go with me. When asked why I didn’t, I laughed and said because one or both of you would have “spilled the beans” and that would have been the end of my forays to those magical places. The middle one insisted that she would never have said anything, and I had to remind her that every time she became angry with me she had “squealed” about something just to get me in trouble. The fact that she adamantly denied it doesn’t change the truth of it however. We left California to move to Texas when I was 13, but those memories are still vibrantly alive!

Purple horses with orange manes,
Elephants pink and blue,
Tigers and lions there were never seen
In circus parade or zoo!
Bring out your money and choose your steed,
And prance to the delightsome sound.
What fun if the world would turn some day
Into a Merry-Go-Round!
~Rachel Field

When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. ~1 Corinthians 12:11  ✝

1164. Drip, drip, drip in cadenced rhythm fall the rain’s dotted silver threads from heaven above. ~Natalie Scarberry

I looked out the window at the falling rain
and gave myself over to the compelling urge to put
myself entirely in the keeping of this rainy day.
~Edited lines from a poem
by Raymond Carver

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Drip, drip, dripping from on high it falls
Not in torrents this time, but in a tender grayness.
Fall, fall, falling through space it comes
Traveling from who knows where and what source
Yet it brings familiar scents and thoughts of yore.
Would I, could I, unravel such things!

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Puddles, puddles, puddling everywhere
Making pools of water like bits of glassy mirrors.
Hang, hang, hanging are leaves and flowery faces
Weighed down by the heaviness of daylong showers
Born of lowering gray clouds leaden with water
Yet there is loveliness in their blurry, drooping poses.
Would I, could I, paint such things.

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Memories, memories, making their way through the rain
With smacks of this fragrance and that, places and people,
Joys and pain, good things and bad things all tied up
In “raindrops on roses” and more of my favorite things
That sparkle and forever accompany rainy days and quiet ways.
Yet there’s gladness in it all for it’s the sum and magic of a life.
Would I, could I, understand such things.
~Natalie Scarberry

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Last night the rain spoke to me
slowly, saying, what joy to come falling
out of the brisk cloud, to be happy again
in a new way on the earth!
~Excerpt from a poem
by Mary Oliver

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“Can you fathom the mysteries of God? Can you probe the limits of the Almighty?” ~Job 11:7  ✝

**All images taken by me in my yard today while holding an umbrella in one hand and trying to manage the camera with the other one.

1123. Our memories from early childhood seem to have such purchase on our emotions. ~Dana Spiotta

What we remember from childhood we remember forever —
permanent ghosts, stamped, inked, imprinted, eternally seen.
~Cynthia Ozick

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When I look back at that freedom of childhood, which is in a way infinite, and at all the joy and the intense happiness, now lost, I sometimes think that childhood is where the real meaning of life is located, and that we, adults, are its servants – that that’s our purpose. ~Karl Ove Knausgaard

It’s funny how when one is hurting physically and/or emotionally things from his/her childhood sometimes come to the foreground of the mind and that as the result even nearly 6 decades after the fact rembrances of egregious circumstances can still rear their ugly heads so that finding forgiveness for the toll the incident(s) have taken is a battle that begins again. The migraine began at midnight last night and it rages on and probably will for the remainder of this night too. So I’m gonna shut down and search for the strength to endure again.

For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. ~Matthew 6:14  ✝

1033. Memories are the architecture of our identity. ~Unknown

Memory is a way of holding onto
the things we love,
the things we are,
the things we never want to lose.
~Kevin Arnold

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The Coin
Into my heart’s treasury
I slipped a coin
That time cannot take
Nor a thief purloin, —
Oh better than the minting
Of a gold-crowned king
Is the safe-kept memory
Of a lovely thing.
~Sara Teasdale

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A million feelings.
A thousand thoughts.
A hundred memories.
One person.
~Unknown

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Memories are the timeless
treasures of our hearts.
~Unknown

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I love those random memories
that make me smile no matter
what’s going on in my life.
~Unknown

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I will perpetuate your memory through all generations; therefore nations will praise you (Lord) for ever and ever. ~Psalm 45:17  ✝

**Collages created from photos in my Scrapbooks

844. A long marriage is two people trying to dance a duet and two solos at the same time. ~Anne Taylor Fleming

We’re going to the chapel,
and we’re gonna get married…
Oh, but we already did that, didn’t we?!
The year was 1963, it was August 17th,
and Henry Mancini was singing our song.
~James and Natalie

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The days of wine and roses
laugh and run away like a child at play

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through the meadow land toward a closing door,
a door marked “Nevermore,” that wasn’t there before.

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The lonely night discloses,
just a passing breeze filled with memories

Picture 265

of a golden smile that introduced me to
the days of wine and roses and you.
~Lyrics by Henry Mancini and Johnny Mercer

As a young man marries a young woman, so will your Builder marry you; as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you. ~Isaiah 62:5   ✝

**First 3 wedding images via Pinterest, bottom image at our reception

752. Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream. ~Kahlil Gibran

Our lives are structured
by our memories of events.
~Joshua Foer

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Ever so long ago during the summer before my senior year in high school, I decided I wanted to take French instead of a fourth year of Latin, and from the very first day in that class I fell in love with the French language, France in general, and Paris in particular. So after graduation I headed off to college and chose French as my major with the dream of being a translator at the UN one day or better still of going to live and work in Paris. However, my father’s unexpected and premature death at the end of my Freshman year at TCU changed my life in so many ways. I was heartbroken beyond all reason; I just wanted to quit school and get a job. But the combined voices of friends and my mom prevailed, and I went back to school in the fall. My mom did press me to go ahead and get a teaching certificate no matter what else I might decide to do when I graduated. To be continued…
(3 weeks from today and counting)

I will perpetuate your memory through all generations; therefore the nations will praise you for ever and ever. ~Psalm 45:17  ✝

**Images via Pinterest and the Internet