One wonderful thing about the valley here, is that you can turn in almost any direction and see mountains.
When I was a girl, my summer camp was in this mountain range. We would leave the hot and often smoggy city, and ascend the hills until we reached our destination.
Smoky the Bear calmly let us know how high the fire danger was on our way up. Woodsy the Owl reminded us to give a hoot and not pollute.
BTW, you can read the rest of my adventure in the California Dreaming series by clicking the links below:
Even though I loved the mountains and looked forward to camp, once I got there? I was a bit scared to be left.
One year, my parents stayed to visit friends who worked at the camp, that they’d known for many years. Apparently, as the story goes, a camp employee had to go and ask my parents to leave.
To go home! Because Christa could see them and was crying.
Jeesh. I don’t do that anymore, thankfully.
It didn’t matter if the mountains were misty or full of sunshine. They were magical all the time.
We’d hike up the mountain alongside the river, watching out for bears. Collecting beads by day, and singing campfire songs at night.
My aunt worked there a few summers in the kitchen (that helped a lot with my fear), and as a teen I even got to come back as a junior counselor. There were a few intimidating moments, but it was largely a wonderful experience.
Funny the things we remember. The smell of something in the air will transport us back to another time. A quick glimpse of a road might remind us of a long-distance road of our youth.
The sounds of the winds high above in the pines sing the summer lullabies of long ago.
Would you believe the city of San Bernardino is under this rolling fog bank?
Everything changes, yet in our minds, nothing ever seems to alter our memories.
I love your photo…journaling, Chista! Another way to know you!
A word or an image are enough to bring forth moments from my youth or any time of the past. These triggers are powerful enough to even enlighten the past of people with dementia. I realized that when I was visiting a patient in a care facility and also see it every day with my mom. I ask her to sing a song or say a poem and she cannot think of any of the hundreds she knows. Yet, she will be reveling at nature, looking through a book, or hear a word in a conversation and she begins reciting or singing, which she does beautifully. She used to remember and talk of all hardships and losses in her life but no longer does, and I don’t remind her, but she still remembers all good things when I ask specific questions.
I was blessed with a family and other people that lived and shared love and wisdom. Two negative instances of outsiders come to mind once in a while, out of the blue, but they affect me no longer, so I bless and let them go.
Memories are part of us. They either bless us or hurt us. We all look at the past through difference lenses and often out of focus. The important thing is to enjoy the trip back and be inspired by the pleasant memories but also trust that anything unpleasant has no longer the power to hurt us. I share many of my memories in “Sailing to Ithaca.”
Katina, your words are a beautiful reminder to celebrate the power of the details. That is so interesting about dementia and the experiences with your mother. Those kinds of sharing help us all to think in broader strokes. Thank you for blessing ME with your stories
I love your photo…journaling, Chista! Another way to know you!
A word or an image are enough to bring forth moments from my youth or any time of the past. These triggers are powerful enough to even enlighten the past of people with dementia. I realized that when I was visiting a patient in a care facility and also see it every day with my mom. I ask her to sing a song or say a poem and she cannot think of any of the hundreds she knows. Yet, she will be reveling at nature, looking through a book, or hear a word in a conversation and she begins reciting or singing, which she does beautifully. She used to remember and talk of all hardships and losses in her life but no longer does, and I don’t remind her, but she still remembers all good things when I ask specific questions.
I was blessed with a family and other people that lived and shared love and wisdom. Two negative instances of outsiders come to mind once in a while, out of the blue, but they affect me no longer, so I bless and let them go.
Memories are part of us. They either bless us or hurt us. We all look at the past through difference lenses and often out of focus. The important thing is to enjoy the trip back and be inspired by the pleasant memories but also trust that anything unpleasant has no longer the power to hurt us. I share many of my memories in “Sailing to Ithaca.”
Be blessed, my wonderful friend!
Katina, your words are a beautiful reminder to celebrate the power of the details. That is so interesting about dementia and the experiences with your mother. Those kinds of sharing help us all to think in broader strokes. Thank you for blessing ME with your stories
Love Cali. Love to visit.