Flashbacks

Glimmers
June 3, 2010


I’ve been having flashbacks lately. They are not like the ones associated with post-traumatic stress. These usually make me smile. A couple of weeks ago, I was driving home from Melbourne, Florida in the early evening. The rain had just ended. The air was warm and so heavy it seemed you could wring the moisture out of it like a wet rag. Suddenly, in my mind, I was driving through a curve on Old Centerville Road outside of Tallahassee. It is pitch black except for the glow of my headlights, steam rising from the wet pavement. It was a warm summer night and I was heading home from the Halstead’s house in my 1965 purple Corvair. Yes,purple. It had black vinyl interior and an under the dash 8 track that I had installed myself in Gene Williford's backyard. It was my first car and it was ugly, but it had only cost me a few hundred bucks and I was happy have a car-any car. That’s the feeling that “flashed back,” happiness.

A few days later, I saw a man riding a bicycle on South Barna near where it meets 405 here in Titusville. He was on the sidewalk and turned sharply to follow the curvy sidewalk path. Now I am nine years old on my bicycle with the high handlebars and the banana seat. I am on the sidewalk on the main street that runs through Brooker, FL. In my mind I am opening the screen door of the general store. Across the hardwood floors, to the left of the one manual cash register with the big numbers is a little cooler full of Royal Crown colas and Yoo-Hoo Chocolate sodas. A quarter is all it takes to satisfy my longing. Happiness!

Last week I made my first trip to New York City. It was an amazing experience about which I have much more to say and I’m saving it for next week’s Glimmers. For now, I’ll share another flashback. At the East Flatbush Church of God, where I joined with two other training instructors for the Church of God Chaplains commission to teach for three days, I am standing beside the table with pastries, coffee and tea. There is a big pot of hot water for the beverage of your choosing. The coffee is instant, Folgers Crystals to be exact. And instantly, I am transported to the dining room table of our 12x60 mobile home. I am eleven years old and feeling much older because my mother has allowed me to have coffee, Folgers Crystals instant, with my toast and jelly before heading off to school. I savor it- the aroma, the flavor, the brief encounter with grown-up privilege. I am blissfully unaware of the gathering storm the next few years would bring.

Memories are precious things. They are the repositories of our past, the stuff of who we are. No doubt you have some painful ones, like me. But when you have flashbacks to the good ones, stop and revel in them for a while. It may help you remember who you are and why you’re here.

Blessings to you all,

Jerald