As I get older, I notice how much more nostalgic I am about experiences. A smell, a taste, a sensation, can swallow me up whole and bring back memories of time gone by. Seasons and holidays do this more than any other and sometimes the emotion is so strong it can bring joyful tears to my eyes or an aching feeling in my heart. Summer time is one of those sweet memorable seasons.
A splash of water and the smell of chlorine can bring back days of crossing the pasture to swim in my Memaw’s backyard with my two sisters. We’d spend the day in the sun with the stereo on quoting movies back and forth. We took lunch breaks and made ramen while sitting on her kitchen counter with my aunt, who I always thought was my cousin. Running, laughing, and sunburnt we’d return to the pool and pop a crisp can of Pepsi. I remember detesting the flavor of chlorine mixed with it. We stayed in that pool until someone inevitably returned from work to force us out. My memaw made chicken fried steak and sent us home. We would walk through the pasture at dusk watching the emersion of fireflies. Mixed with pounding sounds of locusts, the silence and calamity of the land was impeccable. Tired and happy, yet frustrated all the same that the day was over, I would return home only to repeat this routine day in and day out until August.
Now, summer is quite different. I no longer live on that land. Even if I did, that pool is gone. My parents moved. The pasture, once over grown and mysterious, is now flat, cut down still beautiful, but different all the same. I live in a skyscraper now. My pool is an elevator ride down and 2 stories off the ground. I don’t drink soda or eat ramen anymore and I only swim (sometimes) on the weekend. It may look different now, but those memories will be with me all through my life. Every single time I jump in a pool, I will jump into memories.