Have you ever experienced a moment, when you were absolutely certain of a memory, of exactly how something occurred, but then realized, maybe not? It all began, with chair yoga.
I’m not proud to admit this, but my physicality has diminished so much, I’m down to attempting to do chair yoga. Note, I did not state that I am doing chair yoga, I’m merely attempting to do chair yoga. Back in the day, when dinosaurs roamed the earth, I did yoga. I distinctly remember doing yoga along with Lilias Yoga and You on WTTW. I was around 11 years old and so damned proud of myself that I was doing yoga. I’m certain that I was amazing at it and most likely, boasted about being able to do yoga.
Many decades later, I was at a neighborhood estate sale where I happened upon a booklet from Lilias Yoga and You, and promptly purchased it for 75 cents. I bought it as a piece of memorabilia, but also as a reference piece, as to how awesome I was at 11 years of age. Just the other day, I attempted to do chair yoga, fully believing that this would be way below my capabilities. I mean, after all, I used to do yoga with Lilias, don’t you know. To my chagrin, I could barely do any of the poses, even remotely, that this svelte young lady was performing, with ease, on a chair, not on the floor, on a chair. I took out my booklet from Lilias Yoga and You and, while combing through its pages wondered, “Did I ever do any of this?” I remember watching the show, I even remember sitting on the front room floor trying to follow along with the show, but was I ever able to do any of this?” Considering my girth, from the age of 5, odds are, no. I believed myself to be doing yoga, but I wasn’t really doing yoga, it’s just a delusional memory, of me doing yoga.
It’s that time of year where one begins to tuck away holiday decorations for the following year. While taking down Christmas cards, I realized that, over the years, I have saved way too many of these gems. I have issues with tossing photos of people, it’s like tossing away a piece of their souls, so photo Christmas cards are kept, without question. I have a nice box that I keep special cards in. Christmas cards, random greetings cards and death cards, you know, the ones given out at wakes. They may have a more proper name, but I call them death cards, it’s fine. While going through this box of cards, I found the letter my eldest kid wrote while in high school to his future self. Five years after graduation, they mailed out the letters the kids wrote.
In my memories, this is the letter that stated that my kid wanted to go to Japan one day. Being in the Navy, this was accomplished. I remember calling my eldest and saying, how amazing it was that this goal was accomplished. However, the letter I was holding in my hands, had no such goal written on it. Granted, the handwriting was small, I even pulled out a magnifying glass for assistance, but there was no mention of Japan. How could this be? I know, a phone call was had, there is no way I imagined that. Why did this letter, the one I was holding in my present-day hand, not state what I knew to be true? And so, the search began.
I have lived in this house, all but one year of my life. Needless to say, I have stuff, I am not a hoarder, but I have stuff, in multiple locations, nonetheless. I began in the most obvious location I would have stored such a precious document, my bedroom desk that doubles as a vanity. I dug through collections of keepsakes, images of the life I used to live, or thought I was living, multiple backups of makeup supplies and essential oils, and more greeting cards, that I had no recollection of. I was pleasantly surprised to reread notes from a friend, telling me how her daughter was obsessed with images of me and the stories behind them and how much I meant to both of them. While digging, I also went through my extensive jewelry collection. The memories rushed over me as I recollected the beautiful gifts I have received over the years. As I held each piece, I recalled who gave it to me and the wonderful adventures we once shared. How blessed am I to have had so many incredible friends, people willing not only to put their feelings into written words, but to give me such cherished gifts. I was overcome by glee, but alas, I did not find the elusive document stating that my kid wanted to go to Japan.
I wrote to my Navy kid and asked, if this conversation occurred. I was beginning to question my sanity; how could I have such a vivid memory and no documentation to back it up? I was assured that the conversation did happen, and was prompted to enjoy my treasure hunt. A treasure hunt? Yes, indeed, that is what I was on. Next, I opened my mother’s hope chest, the cedar chest in the upstairs hallway that is home to my most precious memories. There in, lies the newspapers from when Kennedy was assassinated, when man first walked the moon, and the days from when both of my children were born. I have the christening gown my mother made from her wedding dress, bronzed baby shoes and even Irving Wildcat memorabilia from days gone by, but no letter stating that my child wished to visit Japan.
I began to realize that maybe, it wasn’t a letter. Maybe, it was one of the many partially written in note books my children had. Nope, nothing was found. It was then, I received a phone call from my dear friend Ray. Her child had opened the birthday present I had sent her and was calling to say thank you. I told her of my adventure and she mentioned the possibility of alternate timelines, she’s a gem. She mentioned the Mandela Effect, a social phenomenon where a group of people share a false memory of a person, place, thing, or event. Could be, worth thinking about, but that’s a conversation for another day.
As I sat down to write this blog, I realized, that finding the actual document to back up my memory, was most likely, fruitless. It could exist, I know it does exist, but finding it, is not important. What is important, is that I do have so many cherished memories of amazing people, places, things, and events. I have keepsakes, treasures, in so many forms, to help me remember much of the journey I’ve been on. What is important, is that I recognize the importance of how blessed I truly am and to continue to show gratitude to all the people who have touched my life in one form, or another.
I may have trouble doing chair yoga, attempting to do chair yoga, but how wonderful is it, that I have the ability, to attempt to do chair yoga. I’m still moving, I’m still alive, and I have so many wonderful memories, swirling around me, keeping me company, as I attempt, as I keep moving forward and making new memories, each and every day.
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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