Just One Memory (originally written October 9, 2018)

If I had only one memory to keep for my life so far - what would it be?  

There are so many and yet as I think about it I cannot think of a one.  

• My memory is jogged by a painting in front of me of our wedding day - it was such a beautiful summer evening in Ohio - family and friends - mostly family though and therefore rather intimate. 
• The sound of the fountain, the twinkling lights in the trees at dusk - or would it be my first trip to California - so many memories were made but one of the most impressive was my first whale watching cruise where a pod of orcas came close to the boat with a baby in tow and an older whale as well - a family of 6 - so large and graceful in the water?  
• Would it be my first view of the Grand Canyon - it took my breath away - the colors of red, brown, gold, grey, blue, and green - almost unreal and yet massive. 
• Could it be my first view of Mt Rainier? Looking at her from my sister’s apartment in Fremont - looking a little periwinkle and a little pink with the setting sun. 
• What if I went back in time and remembered my family’s only actual family vacation down the Blue Ridge Parkway in the Appalachians - it was spring and the colors of newly budding flowers and trees, the rain, the mist, the smoke of the smoky mountains, those curvy winding roads...how about my first trip to Colorado - the Rocky Mountains with the elk and deer - the small pika or marmots. 
• What about being out of the country?  My trip as a high schooler visiting the Soviet Union - my walk down the Winter Palace steps surrounded by art and language and history - or walking along the cobbled street in Red Square or riding a night train in the dark between Moscow and Leningrad.  
• In Mexico - my trip to Chichen Itza - climbing those dark and tight steps in the tallest pyramid to see an altar in its original color - fighting back the fear of close spaces and nausea and I get a quick glimpse of things that few people get to see. The blue waters of an underground cave where people can swim or passing through a village celebrating the Virgin of Guadalupe with the vivid colored buildings and festivities around me. 
• What if it is one of those many 4th of July summer gatherings at my Grandparent’s farm with my parents and cousins and aunts and uncles - picking ripe berries and eating from the garden, checking on the cows and walking in the fields, climbing the Harvestor silo and getting yelled at - playing after dark and chasing the fireflies with a distant flicker and rumble of thunder in the sky.
• What if it is my first thunderstorm that I have been in since moving to Washington - the return to the midwest and that smell in the air that tells you it is coming, the wind picks up and the air feels electric - the rumble in the sky and the jagged edge of light - those green grey clouds that start to dance just as the distant siren tells you that it is indeed ideal weather for a tornado...
• Is it holding my mother or father's hand? Feeling their rough and soft skin around my small hand, feeling just a little behind and we walk quickly to somewhere.