memories

So many of my ideas, plans and memories come in the shower. This morning was no exception.

My three biggies and best are the:

• Birth of my daughter
• My marriage to Rick 2
• Becoming Swiss

Each could be a blog or a book unto themselves. But then there are a lot of little ones. The good ones. I suppose I could do another blog on the bad memories, but I won't. I lived them once, learned from them and put them away. Here are this morning's damp memories.

• Seeing reindeer hoof prints outside my bedroom on the slanted roof (I suspect now my Dad was responsible).
• Picking enough violets from the side of the hill at my house to fill a several inch pewter pitcher. The color against the frosted pewter was beautiful.
• Seeing the happiness on my grandmother's face at my university graduation. She hadn't been able to finish high school, but was one of the smartest women I knew. Her pride in me was as big a gift as the diploma.
• Living in Boston. There was a certain feeling just walking down the street.
• Having my own condo in Boston and walking through the rooms, my rooms.
• Setting foot in LeHavre, France as a new bride--a lifelong dream to go live in Europe--and getting off the boat although a luxury was not my favorite travel way.
• Moving to Switzerland in my forties.
• Buying my studio in France that fulfilled the dream of living in a small loft with all that I needed and not a thing more. Living there made many new memories.
• The first time someone said I spoke good French, though I suspect a lie. At least he understood me. 
• Each cancer check that says no cancer.

Maybe tomorrow I will dredge up new good memories in the shower or plan the next chapter in the novel I am writing or even think of the chicken Rick will bring home for lunch.

I do know, how lucky I am that so many of my days are filled with little things that if I put them on bits of paper and then into a jar, I would have a warehouse with shelves filled top to bottom with stuffed jars.