Jerry and I get around. In 2011, we moved from the USA to Spain. We now live near Málaga. Jerry y yo nos movemos. En 2011, nos mudamos de EEUU a España. Ahora vivimos cerca de Málaga.
Memories attached / Recuerdos adjuntos
La versión en español está después de la versión en inglés.
I DWELL. MY MIND GETS caught up in past experiences and I then dwell and, often, I’m miserable. To get my mind out of that loop, I have a couple of songs I sing in my head. One is “Move On” from the Broadway musical, “Sunday in the Park with George.” The other, which is often even more helpful, is “No Day But Today” from the show and film, “Rent.”
But I do enjoy many of my memories and I love sharing the stories, as you’ve probably noticed. We have plenty of momentos around the house. I try to display only the ones that make me smile. Here are a few and their stories, with many more to come.
YO DETENGO. MI MENTE SE encuentra atrapada en experiencias pasadas y luego habito y, a menudo, soy miserable. Para sacar mi mente de ese ciclo, tengo un par de canciones que canto en mi cabeza. Uno es “Move On” del musical de Broadway, “Sunday in the Park with George”. El otro, que a menudo es aún más útil, es “No hay más que hoy” del musical de Broadway y la película “Rent”.
Pero disfruto muchos de mis recuerdos y me encanta compartir las historias, como probablemente hayas notado. Tenemos muchos momentos en casa. Intento mostrar solo los que me hacen sonreír. Aquí hay algunas y sus historias, y muchas más por venir.
From Brooklyn, New York; to North Massapequa; back to Brooklyn; Brockport, New York; back to Brooklyn... To Boston, Massachusetts, where I met Jerry... To Marina del Rey, California; Washington, DC; New Haven and Guilford, Connecticut; San Diego, San Francisco, Palm Springs, and Santa Barbara, California; Las Vegas, Nevada; Irvine, California; Sevilla, Spain. And Fuengirola, Málaga..
View all posts by Moving with Mitchell
32 thoughts on “Memories attached / Recuerdos adjuntos”
Amazing how memories attach to objects and music. These are precious.
It is. Lots of memory makers around our house. And some songs take me back to specific experiences. Boom Boom Boom Boom… and I’m on a rocking pirate ship ride that was traveling the neighbourhood while we visited some cousins in Brooklyn. I can picture where I sat, where my stoned cousin and her stoned friend sat, what they yelled during the ride, and how sick I felt. I think it was 1965!
Oh, Mitchell. I’m lost for words except I want to give you a big hug.
These are all very sweet memories that make me smile. Thanks for the hug!
I enjoyed reading the stories behind your treasures. Memories are often bittersweet, aren’t they. It’s a bitch how that works.
These all do make me smile now. All sweet memories.
The death of a sibling at that age is devastating indeed. Our young minds are so vulnerable and pliable.
The death of my brother when he was 19 was the turning point in my life. At the time all I saw was grief and sadness. Over the years I see his short life as being the inspiration that turned my life in a positive direction. In a way I have him to thank. ….if this makes any sense. When I think of him now it is not all regret.
I hope every time you see these ‘Dale mementos’ they bring you some joy.
These mementos of Dale always bring me joy now. Actually, most of my happy memories from childhood and my teens involve Dale.
My experience is similar yet different ~ the loss of my father aged 36 devastated my brother who was 6 years old while I was only 2 years. As the years slipped by I knew that my connection wasn’t strong for my father’s memory but I began to realize that my brother was “changed immeasurably” for ever. My first hurdle was my age of 36 ~ would I reach that age? I did and now I wait for age 72 (next year) to arrive ~ will I reach this safely. I know it’s OCD but when you don’t have a brother’s love to rely on then life seems to flounder, flip flopping all the time. My brother passed 4 years ago so I am now left to my own imaginations. One thing over the years I grabbed onto was the historical info about my Dad a flying Ace in WW2. I have shared these over the years on FB and my recent blog. I mould my feelings with this history. It is what helps.
These are things that make me smile and remember fondly. I know what you mean about the milestone ages. Not healthy, not realistic to focus on them, but we do. Sharing photos, gifts, and stories we learn in later years definitely help. I love when you share things about your family.
I love the stories and the memories. That little statue from your sister is poignant — and so ’70s! What would Dale have thought if she knew you’d still have it even now, almost 50 years later.
Oh, that flower child. I don’t ever remember thinking it was overly precious, but it sure is. I can just picture Dale’s face at the sight of that after so many years.
you have such interesting items. dale is most likely pleased that she is still remembered fondly.
Dale IS my best childhood memory. I’m so grateful to have that.
Three faces, three doors to memories. Those are particularly sweet ones, Mitchell, even with the sadness. When I closed my eyes to go to sleep last night, unpleasant memories rose to the surface. I had to tell myself – “No, not going there!” and deliberately call up happier memories to fall asleep with before I got sucked into the whirlpool. During the night I dreamt that I was writing and directing a film, which was fun and exciting. I can almost remember the plot . . .
Hope you can put the entire plot together. What will be the name of your production company? And, yeah, getting sucked into the whirlpool is a perfect description.
First off, to of my favorite B’way tunes.
Secondly, I think every house needs an Olivia!
I remember us both falling in love with Olivia the first time we saw her as we entered the cabin. We love having her here with us.
I absolutely loved this post. The story of your sister was so incredibly touching. Thank you so much for sharing it.
I’m glad you enjoyed it. It’s such a vivid and sweet memory.
Your musical accompaniment needs improvement
Well, I loved Talking Heads but not this particular song. Sorry. Back to Broadway.
I too love Olivia; I would get one on a heartbeat
this was a tender beautiful post; thank for sharing.
Olivia started our collection of wall art. We didn’t take a lot of it with us from the States.
The counterculture was still going strong while I was in elementary school–or so it seemed at the time. I now realize it was winding down in the early ’70s and was done for by the time I was in high school. I was a bit disappointed because I remember when I was in the 3rd or 4th grade thinking that it might be neat to be a hippie. It was hardly the only thing I wanted to be as a child, but the counterculture did form an impression on my young mind. By that time it had seeped into Saturday morning cartoons–The Banana Splits, Scoopy-Do, Where Are You, and of course, Pufnstuf. And there were hippie toys and figurines such as the one you show here. In retrospect, the mainstreaming of the counterculture may have been a sign that it was winding down, but oh was I fascinated. Your hippie sculpture brings all that back.
Fortunately, the hippy counterculture did survive for a while despite the commercialism.
Happy New Your My Kissing Cuz! Love to you and Jerry.. <3
Back at you!
Poignant post, Mitchell. xo
Thanks. I hadn’t meant it to be quite so poignant, but then I don’t really know what I was thinking.
I’m glad you had Dale in your life. I send you a gigantic hug.
Thanks for the hug! I, too, am glad I had Dale in my life.