Memories. What exactly are they? They are intangible – they have no matter, yet they hold the power to instantly transform your state of mind and affect the chemicals in your body. This power is only over you – your memories have no impact on anyone else. Some can be your best support system – others a horrible curse. It’s fascinating to me how powerful these can be when they are basically … nothing!
These non-existent “things” are triggered by something as simple as an aroma. For me – it’s the smell of cinnamon and cloves. Specifically, oatmeal cookies baking. One of my best memories is “Grandma Mary” baking oatmeal cookies. When my parents were young they rented a house from Mary Bradford. My mom had lost her own mother when she was a child, and Mary Bradford took her under her wing – became a MOM to my mom – and Grandma Mary to all of us kids.
Home was … chaotic. That’s a good word for it.
My father suffered PTSD from the Korean War, but in the 60’s this wasn’t well understood. In fact, PTSD wasn’t officially recognized and treated until the 70’s.
Without the help he needed, like so many others, he self-medicated with alcohol.
He tried his best – I know he did. And he really loved us all – I know that too. But life in our house was … chaotic.
Except when Grandma Mary visited.
Grandma had a calming effect. I don’t know if it was because of her life experience, her wisdom, or her deep love for Jesus. But she had gained respect from everyone in our family. There was something special about Grandma Mary. When she was there, everyone was safe. The world was good. There was no chaos. She would invite me into the kitchen and let me “help” her make oatmeal cookies. I loved those moments.
I love those memories!
This seed she planted in me grew into my love of cooking. To this day, I feel safe in the kitchen. Whether I’m putting together a meal to share with friends and family or whipping up a batch of cookies – the world is good. Life is good.
These memories – so incredibly versatile and so incredibly strong. The Korean war is over, yet the memories still invoked anxiety and panic in my father until his death.
My Grandma Mary is gone too – yet her memories invoke joy and a sense of well being in me.
This is the power of memories, and this is why I am intentional about creating good memories with my grandkids. Simple but powerful – like “helping” me cook or making a special trip to the ice cream shop for root beer floats in the middle of winter.
They will remember these moments. These grandkids are not at war – I am thankful for that. But they ARE growing up in a pandemic. And that can also be very….chaotic. So we make good memories.
The kind with cinnamon and cloves.
It is my hope that when they are all grown up – when they need to feel safe in a chaotic world – these #memories will rush in and instantly know that the world is good. #LifeIsGood
Shout-out to Debby Hudson for the title photo https://unsplash.com/@hudsoncrafted
Good article!