Random Access Memory | ETERNALLY PLANTED

Gone Tomorrow

April 17, 2015April 4, 2024Tammy M CardwellLeave a comment

Copyright Barry Hatch All rights reserved — Copyright Barry Hatch
All rights reserved

We were in the back of our Girl Scout leader’s car, on our way to a campout, when I overheard a girl with short, curly hair telling the story of the day years before when she had gotten her incredibly long hair cut off. As I heard the details, I popped up and interrupted her to ask if she remembered two girls watching. She did, and I informed her that I was one of those girls. RAM – Randomly, I instantly accessed a memory I’d totally forgotten. (And, just as randomly, it was the “Hare Today” title of a previous post that triggered this memory as well as inspiring today’s title.)

Mother was a hair stylist (We called them beauticians in those days.) until I was in Junior High and my parents started a business. As a result of her profession, Clarissa and I spent many hours in various salons. The day the girl came in with the longest hair I’d ever seen on a child (she could sit on it) and cut it SHORT really had burned itself into my hard drive. I may not access the information often, but it’s there.

I remember being appalled. I remember being astounded that she was so happy with her new ‘do.’ I remember being convinced that she would regret it forever.

How often, in life, are we able to get answers to our impossible questions? I mean, really? When I realized who she was, I had to know. Had she regretted it? Ever?

“Never!” she said with a smile.

No, it wasn’t one of the great questions of the universe, but it was satisfying to finally have it answered nonetheless. I love it when things like that happen!

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

Hare Today

April 15, 2015April 5, 2024Tammy M CardwellLeave a comment

Venitta and Vanessa Hare

They were the youngest daughters of one my Mother’s friends. It amazes me, actually, that I remember them at all, because the time during which our moms would have been friends had to have been fairly short.

Nonetheless, assuming the few memories I have are accurate and not my childhood brain combining multiple stories, I can tell you they were Catholic, because they were studying them one day and they said their mom only allowed Catholic Bibles in the house; there was a baby in the picture somewhere, because their home was the first in which I saw how much babies liked to play with keys (real ones, not those plastic toys); and their older siblings were…a little creative.

On the night I’m remembering, our moms went out somewhere and Clarissa (my sister) and I, along with Venitta and Vanessa, were left in the care of their older siblings – one of which obviously had a car. I remember watching a what-to-do discussion as our babysitters tried to decide how to have fun while keeping the kids. They settled on going to the movies.

Normal. Right?

Unless you’re going to a drive-in theater with limited funds, want to see movies little kids can’t see legally, and those kids really are little…little enough to fit in the trunk.

Yep, that was my first experience with truly breaking the rules. It was, bless God, my only experience inside a car’s trunk. Well, except that it happened more than once that night. As I recall, the first movie didn’t serve, so we went to another…and perhaps a third?

Another first that night was “rated” movies. I saw things at one of them that… Well, I think they figured out they’d blown it at that one, because we didn’t stay long after the scene that messed with my young head.

It never ceases to amaze me, this random access we have to memories from decades ago. It’s also intriguing to consider: How accurate ARE my memories of my two young friends? Assuming Venitta and Vanessa are out there, do they remember us? Do they remember that night? Are they as dedicated to their Bibles today as they seemed to be then?

Gotta wonder.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

Memories

February 28, 2015April 5, 2024Tammy M Cardwell1 Comment

Memories are powerful things. My mother-in-love demanded that we not use our chosen girl’s name because of bad memories of a childhood not-friend. (Good thing we had a boy!) I refuse to even consider trying liver because of the clear memory of my stepmother trying to make me eat it as a kid. (Good thing Mother showed up!) Depending on their nature, memories can either hold us prisoner or free us – and they can be triggered by the simplest things.

The above photo took me instantly back to the best place on earth, my grandparents’ house on a country road halfway between Teague and Mexia (Texas). Granny always had this very plant and the hummingbirds that frequented it were her delight – mine too. In truth, I can hardly think about hummingbirds without thinking of her.

Memories of Granny lead me through rows of clean sheets hanging on the lines, past her in her sunbonnet picking peas, on to Grandaddy striding across the pasture with a faithful dog at his side. Then the dogs come out of memory’s hiding places. First there’s Shep, who I’m sure was named after Laura Ingalls Wilder’s dog; he was old, deaf, mostly blind, but such a lover. Then there come other dogs, not as distinct, until you get to Bouncer. Grandaddy considered naming him Battle Ax; thank God he listed to reason and accepted that any dog inclined to bounce on and off the porch like this one deserved only one name.

Bouncer is the last dog I remember. Grandaddy passed away and later, the very day I finished a leather collar for him in art class, we learned that Bouncer had been killed by a car. Granny never got another dog…I don’t think? I remember a conversation about how much traffic had increased on her road and what a danger it was to dogs. I don’t know… I was older then, and didn’t have as much time to spend up country, so I really don’t remember.

Even that thought triggers memories, though. When I was a child, you heard more wolves howling in the fields than cars driving down the road. I wonder…as much as the area has grown up…if those who live there now even hear the wolves anymore.

Memories are wonderful things. With them, we can get as close to time travel as we ever will in this life, stepping backwards in an instant to relive all we thought we’d left behind.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C