Misty Water-Colored Memories

I was in the tub this evening, when suddenly my only memory of my dad crying popped into my brain.

He was sitting on what was then a nubby off-white love seat in the dark. I identified the noise before I could make sense of what was happening. I can’t remember what it sounded like but I remember that strange, unfamiliar noise coming from the person I’d least expected it from. Mostly I remember his posture, head hanging like a dejected Rodin sculpture who forgot to prop his face in his hand. 

I don’t think I was older than 6 or 7. My mom came in, or maybe she was already there and she or my dad explained to me why dad was upset.

Then, I remember my dad telling me he was not sad, he was something else, maybe angry? For along time, that memory that is now escaped me of whatever it was that dad was feeling was etched into my brain. Now just like that, I try to type it and I suddenly can’t recall what he said he was feeling.

I also remember he was mad (or whatever NOT sad emotion) at Morgan O’Dell- a name from my childhood and my father’s professional career. I can’t remember ever hearing anyone refer to Morgan O’Dell as first name familiar, Morgan - Just Morgan O’Dell. 

I also remember a picture of me in a high-chair on the beach (which seems like I remembered that wrong) with mom in a paisley bikini and dad feeding me what I always thought was alfalfa sprouts. My neck craned backwards so my mouth could be perpendicular to my highchair tray, ready to receive my snack like a baby bird. That picture was taken at Morgan O’Dell’s house, which may well have been called Casa Morgan O’Dell.

I could write a million things about the first time (and only time) I remember my dad crying, but what sparked my interest at the moment I remembered it today was the fact that the very next second, I tried to remember a more current memory- when had I seen MJC cry? 

I felt like Rosencrantz or Guildenstern, pouring over blank pages of memory, as I tried to imagine a  relevant scene.

I remember where he was standing and that we were in a fight and that I don’t think I comforted him - which I feel terrible about now if I’m remembering it correctly. And I remember just now, the time before that, which was the first time I saw MJC cry. It was not at our wedding, but 5 months later when I surprised him and presented him with an envelope for Valentine’s Day. Inside, I’d tucked my new social security card with my new name. Again, I remember where we were standing and that he did not blubber but I can’t remember anything more than the emotion now even though it was only a little over a year ago.

Suddenly, I feel nervous. What does my life even mean if I can’t remember words of wisdom and poignant events. Dee can remember what things cost when and almost any moment in space you plucked out for her to tell you about.

I feel compelled to start a tradition of sitting over dinner and discussing our favorite memories in effort to remember more things. Will that help me store what I care to remember? Why can I remember so clearly an event from over two decades ago and remember so little about the moments that fill my most recent days? What if, as an old woman I can’t remember anything at all?