This is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside down. And I'd like to take a minute just sit right there. I'll tell you how I became the Prince of a town called Bel Aire.
Funny how you can go years without watching that show and yet still remember the words to the theme song. Or better yet:
Hey there Lord, my name is Ashley Banks. My family and friends want to give you some thanks. So before this dinner is all swallowed and chewed, thank you God for this stupid food.
Yep. I just went there. That was the rap/prayer that Ashley did in the first episode.
But I didn't get on here to write about my love for the Fresh Prince of Bel Aire, or to even discuss my incredible memorization skills when it comes to music. What I came here to write about today is memories. The good, the bad and the ugly. What makes some of us remember everything (*cough*me*cough*) and some of us only remember the important things in life? I know it has to do with certain things in your brain, I’m not stupid. And I know that they say ‘smoking pot’ can damage your memory. But I literally remember everything. Even when I have had a wee too much to drink, and wake up the next morning with no memory, a few days will go by and everything will start to fall into place.
Some girls at work were talking about prom yesterday and I told them all the reasons that I didn’t go to prom and exactly, word for word, what I did on my senior prom night. I can remember the clothes I wore, where we went and who we hung out with. And that my friends was nine years ago. I remember riding the Zipper, drinking Smirnoff, and reading books about Wiccan spells in the church yard across the street from my house. I doubt any of the other people that were there would remember.
I can watch a movie, like The Devil’s Rejects, and remember the first night that I watched it with Casey and Krystle. I can remember my Grandpa yelling at me and Krystle to “quit renting this God damn movie or I’m not taking to you get movies anymore.” I can remember my dad jokingly getting on to my and Krystle for not telling him how graphic the movie was, how much blood was in it and that a lady is “riding the shit” out of the clown in the beginning. And he let Tammy’s boys watch it.
Simple things like that. And even more complex things; things that most people would try to forget. Like the morning my Aunt Debbie passed away. Like the entire day before she passed. The song that was playing as my sister’s ringtone the morning Tammy called to say my Grandpa had passed. The movie I was watching with Mackenzie the night before Heather woke me up to tell me Grandpa Baty had passed. I remember exactly which episode of Law and Order: SVU was playing when my dad walked downstairs to tell me Uncle Randy had called. They had pulled the plug on my Uncle Timmy, and he had passed quickly.
I remember everything.
I can tell you exactly what my dad bought from the store the day my mom left and never came back. I know what we were eating the day my dad said that he was marrying Tammy. I know what I drank the night before I moved out from my dad’s house. And I can remember every detail of the day my parents found out that my sister’s eggo was preggo.
I love to sit around and talk about old times. I love to take pictures and look back at them years later and remember EXACTLY what I was feeling, going through, dealing with.
Because sometimes, memories are all we have. Sometimes it’s better to look back and laugh. Don’t regret anything that you have ever done. At one time it was exactly what you wanted. There are no regrets in my life, just lessons learned.
Sometime I wish that I could store my memories in little bottles a la Harry Potter style. But until then, I will write them out and hold on to them forever.