Childhood Memories

The holidays stir up all sorts of childhood memories both good and bad.  Why are some memories so much more prominent than others?

The ones that moved us, stick.  Those are the memories that shaped who we are.  

Why is it a particular song, or food or old movie brings us right back to a moment in time so significant it can bring a smile or tear to our eye?

They are triggers.  

Threads of truth within our being. 

Each Christmas I remember the year when I was four or five and received a huge, heavy box underneath the Christmas Tree.  

I had many presents, however, I choose the biggest one first. I was so excited to open it.  I tore the bight Christmas paper open super fast and found coal inside.  

I looked at the dirty, black coal and then at my family that surrounded me, and without warning, big crocodile tears began streaming down my face.  I was so confused. 

I knew I was a good girl that year. How could Santa not know that? 

A prank gift, the brain child of my older cousin, Jimmy, who lived next door.  

He had also built me a beautiful dollhouse, with working lights and miniature furniture.  It was also under the tree that year.

Similar to the one below:

The thing was, I remembered that Christmas vividly.  The box of coal superceded the dollhouse, but that dollhouse was incredible. The best gift I had ever received.  It was made with so much love and care.  Those Christmas memories are bittersweet.

I was loved very much by my extended family and they lived all around me.  The saying, "It takes a village" was very much part of my upbringing.

The irony about this memory, is my cousin Jimmy passed away suddenly a couple of years later.  He was a joker and loved by all.   I recall he would give me rides on his shoulders.  

His passing was a difficult time for my family.  As a little girl, unable to comprehend death, I saw tears and sadness on so many faces.  Jimmy's dead was an untimely passing.

I wonder if my Christmas memory would have been different if he had not died.  

I have lots of happy memories as a kid, and the holidays were always my favorite time of year.  Lots of food and presents and I still love being in the presence of a decorated Christmas tree. (As most of us do.)  Despite all the arguments sourounding putting up the Christmas tree.

Our minds are fully intertwined with so many memories.  

The good memories feed our souls with happiness and care.

The not so good memories remind us of our weaknesses.  Our pain and hardships. 

The good ones become better despite the bad.  

Life is a myriad of experiences which then transition into memories.  

How we choose to create them is up to us.

How we ultimately remember them is our choosen destiny.