Blackberries
A friend read my previous post about ugly babies and said she’d like to be a neuron in my brain to see if she can figure how it works, or something like that. That would actually be extremely helpful, Kaye. Let me know what you learn.
Today my brain is all over the place. The neurons are out of control. I promised this might be random and moody, so here we go.
Last night I ate a blackberry. As soon as it exploded in my mouth, and all the glorious blackberryness came out, I was transported back to when I was 12 years old and living on a small farm near Ellendale, DE. There was a dirt road next to our property. Remember dirt roads? We had a lot of them around here when I was a kid.
About 50 yards down that road, on the left on a fairly steep embankment, there was a wild blackberry patch. It was overgrown and thorny, and the bees liked hanging out there. I knew every inch of that farm, but never bothered much with the blackberry patch. One day my Mom decided we should take a plastic bowl and pick as many blackberries as we could, and we filled the bowl.
Those blackberries were the best I had ever eaten, and I hadn’t thought about them for about 55 years. Isn’t it strange how tastes and smells are embedded in our brains and they sometimes surge to the surface and take us to a different time and place?
I was driving a few miles from the old farm this afternoon and I decided to drive by to see if the blackberries were still there. I knew the answer, but I had to look.
The old dirt road is now paved, and there are houses and front yards where the blackberries used to be. Yeah, it kinda made me sad but it was nice picturing Mom with that plastic bowl walking down the dirt road, looking for dessert.
Yesterday, when I wrote about funerals, I mentioned being reminded of what’s important and what’s not.
Picking blackberries with your kid is important.
Our senses are the key to unlocking the door of our memories. Thanks for sharing yours. Your brain is fearfully and wonderfully made. I doubt God would let me understand that mystery.
Interesting and aligned with an experience I had last week…an odd one, but one that hits the same note about memories popping up in the moment. In my case I got hit in the nose while playing pickleball (no damage, just a couple moments of concern before realizing I was okay). The memory’s response was immediate…I relived the moment of being punched in the face and breaking my nose in the auditorium of Milton Junior High. Weird, but vivid and real in the moment, almost transporting me back to the moment as I immediately began looking for blood and wondering where I would go for help. The mind is an amazing thing!!