Here is part of a leg.Sometimes I think everyone I know can be defined by just one of their parts. It's like when I turned our old TV set on as a kid. At first all I would see was one dot of light in the center of the screen, but then it grew and showed me the whole image. That's how I recall people too. My first mental image is that one representative part.
When I think of my mom, I always hear her voice first. Because she was a painter, you'd think it would be her hands, but it's not. It isn't even her normal speaking voice, it's the one she used when she was being silly and smarting back to the television or to my talking dolls to make me laugh. I don't think I can recall her normal speaking voice anymore, but I can still hear her making wise cracks.
It's similar with Coadster, but with her it's her singing voice. When I think of Coadster, the first thing that comes to me is her humming or belting out a song - which is pretty much how it happens in real life. When I walk into the house, I usually hear her before I see her.
With my uncle it's his eyes. All his anger and rage came out through his cold, blue eyes. When I was younger, I looked there first to see if he was on a tear or not. If they were bloodshot and looked like they were an inch away from exploding out of his head, I knew to make myself invisible. There was a storm a'brewin'.
With Stinky it's her eyes too, but for much more pleasant reasons...Okay, except for when she was a baby. She used to sleep 20 hours a day and wake up at 2 am. Since Coadster only slept eight hours a day, and woke up around 6 am, I was exhausted for those 4 hours in the middle of the night I spent with Stinky. She used to look at me, unblinking, with gigantic brown eyes and I was sure she was an alien and on her planet, they were nocturnal. Now, I think of Stinky and am instantly reminded of her big, beautiful brown eyes that can make me want to give in to her whims during my weaker moments.
I wonder if when I get very old and my memory fades and I can't see or hear, my friends and family will start to fade into their own representative parts in my cobwebbed brain. Then it will be like turning off the TV and the whole images of everyone I've ever known will recede into that one dot of light. Click.
9 comments:
Churlita,
Wow that is a really cool observation. I don't think I've ever heard someone discribe their recollections in that way.
rel
With my dad, it is obviously his hands. That is why he was featured in one of my more popular photo subjects for my project. Those hands have done a lot.
Nice,
I can hear my mom's voice, too - usually her normal voice, sometimes her irritated tone.
With my brothers, their faces are the first things that come to mind, and then their laughter.
Something about this made me want to cry. I never really thought about that before, but your observations are so true and there is a purity to being able to find what is essential in someone.
i love this. we see all our family in each other, dont we?
It's funny, when I see a couple at work with a baby, it takes me back to when my son was a baby. It's funny thinking back-- that their personalities are set so early. When he was six months old, he pretty much had the personality he has now, even though he couldn't talk or walk yet.
Wow. That gives me a lot to think about... wonderful musing. I knew you were a deep thinker.
Very well written too!
Rel,
Thanks. It was just something that came to me while I was running. I wanted to explore it more, so I jotted some thoughts down. I'll rewrite it again when I have more time.
Mrmanuel,
I bet. I love it that you are able to document that.
Nor,
Thanks.
Tara,
Those are all great things.
LauraB.,
I'd say thank you, but I don't know if me making you want to cry is a good thing or not. Ha ha.
This New Place,
Definitely...For better or worse.
Johnny Yen,
My girls were the same way. They've been the same way since birth.
Ananda,
Thank you, but don't give me too much credit. I usually end up disappointing people when they do....
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