I’ve had a few strong recollections lately and I wanted to record them lest they never return.

While I was home I slept in the “pink room,” so named for its feminine carpet. I shared that bedroom for years with my sister Brigette. For a few short years it was mine alone when she moved downstairs upon my oldest sister’s departure for college. Eventually I too would join the “big kids” downstairs. . . but I digress. Waking up there one morning a few weeks ago, I had this vivid memory of myself as young girl walking to the front porch where I would sit on the cold cement steps and just take in the outdoors for a few minutes every morning as I woke up. I loved the feel of the breeze through my nightgown, the beauty of the colorful flowers, and the warmth of the early sun. I had forgotten about this early morning summer ritual, and it brought back the sweet peace and simplicity of youth.

Several days ago I was pondering on ways to instill joy. Brought to my mind was a memory of the time Tom and I flew kites in Oberlin. I remember feeling euphoric, and laughing uncontrollably as Tom and I dodged the wild dives of the wind-driven kite. With my head tilted back until it was painful and my eyes squinting against the sun, my cheeks too ached with the smile that I could not supressed as I yanked the kite back and forth in unintended angular patterns.