January 6, 2021 was a difficult day for our country, and since the start of the impeachment trial on February 9, we’ve been reminded of the trauma of that day in vivid ways. Some have hopes of finding a sense of closure from the events of that frightening day, while others are seeking to blame or punish, or perhaps simply desiring an understanding of how such a thing could happen. Little more than a month after the Capital was invaded, the videos from the impeachment trial are searing our recently-formed memories into our national consciousness.
But for my favorite five-year-old, the happenings in the senate were barely a blip on her radar, for February 9 had a more personal significance, marking the one hundredth day since the delightful and determined Elizabeth Holiday began kindergarten. Pop-Pop’s little peanut is one of the youngest in her class, and is probably the tiniest, small but mighty! I recently asked her what her favorite part of school was, and she told me “math.” When I asked about when she’s sad at school, she told me, “when math is over.” Keep it up, Lizzie Einstein!
To celebrate the passage of the hundredth day, the kindergarteners dressed up like they were one hundred years old. Lizzie’s glasses, bun and little old lady dress looked both ancient and adorable, and then her beloved teacher used an aging photo app to add wrinkles and other elderly signs to her picture. With a bit of Facebook sleuthing, Lizzie’s mother found a picture of great-grandmother Myrtle Shade and the resemblance between the two, born a century apart, is uncanny.
If only the process of aging was as painless as downloading a photo app. Was it coincidental that Elizabeth’s old age transformation came on the same day this grandmother was celebrating the birthday that comes after sixty-five? As the years progress, I do struggle to say the new age out loud, and this year was no exception.
The corona virus kept me from blowing out candles on my cake, but my day was enriched by the wonder of a social media birthday. The greetings came from far and wide, many representing friendships first made in the classroom or on the playground. Others were grounded in our Salvation Army work in New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Ohio. Some are acquaintances from my writing life, while family also chimed in with birthday wishes. Adding to the reminders of my advancing age was the realization that a number of messages were received from people who were children when we first met, and now have children of their own.
As I scrolled through the many wishes for birthday happiness, my mind drifted down memory lane. While I’ve never ascended the heights of Mount Everest or snorkeled amid coral reefs, the memories awakened through the birthday greetings were sweet, and reminded me of the richness of life, the privilege of being a part of the lives of so many. I wanted to take the time to connect again as each name popped up on my screen, but alas, good intentions didn’t translate into action, at least not yet.
Memory is fickle, flirting with us in our dreams and triggered in our consciousness by all kinds of random experiences. For Elizabeth, memories are just beginning, being reinforced by the stories we repeat and the photos we scroll through on my phone. For this grandmother, memory is in the rear-view mirror, prompted by a scent of perfume, a taste of ice cream, or a Facebook greetings. And for a community, whether as small as a family or as large as a nation, a collective memory protects us, binds us together and guides us forward.
Alysha Speer challenges us: “And always remember, even when the memories pinch your heart.” Indeed, some memories may pinch, but there’s likely to be a fair amount of joy as we recall the adventures of life as framed by the kindnesses of others. Sometimes we just have to dig a little deeper in our remembering to reach the sweeter water.
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