“Ordinary Moments” – May 2010

“As a general rule I dont like to repost things that I have already written, but when I read what I wrote May 13, 2010…it seemed to be even more true for today, a year and a week later, as I reflect on that wonderful trip, and try, unsuccessfully, to remember the small, forgotten things. I wish I had written more.”

So I haven’t written as much this trip as I really would have liked to. I honestly planned to write everyday, upload pictures, and do everything of the sorts…but time has just gotten away from me. The first two weeks we were here, I was thinking I had loads of time, we had no return tickets – why stress on writing? I had lots of time. But now, looking back, I really wish I would have. Even writing one sentence each day about what we did proves to be too much, and I am once again relying upon my camera to refresh my memory.

You know how your mom tells you to do something, and you grudgingly do it? Like why mom, does it matter if the date is set right on my camera? I know what day I took the picture, whys it matter? But boy have I been thanking her lately. If I hadn’t set the date correctly, I would be completely lost…at least now I can sort of piece together what was going on what day.

I started my flikr account up again, in hopes that I would at least be able to upload a few pictures…but once again, I haven’t even done that. I just now got around to uploading pictures to my facebook account – pictures that were taken over three weeks ago are just now starting to make their appearance.

I try to remind myself that I will remember things, slowly. They will come back to me, and I will laugh, smile, and maybe even write about them. But I want to write about it all now. I want to write about our adventures, and the wonderful times…I don’t want to forget the small, stupid things that sometimes, just make my day. The things that overtime I will forget. Those are the things I want to journal, to write. The big things I know will stick. I will eventually recall the metro troubles, being pick-pocketed, and getting stopped at the border. I will always remember how beautiful France was…and how peaceful our time here has been…but what about the other things? What about the small details of everyday life here that will otherwise go unnoticed?

What about the little boy who used the water fountain for a bathroom, or the streets that were alley ways? Will I always remember how I felt walking out to the Mediterranean for the first time? Stepping off an airplane into the France heat? Will I forget about the soaking wet bike ride I took? The misused french words? The late night giggling fits I shared with my sister? The things that are over looked, glossed over, and classified as everyday life.

Those are the things I want to remember. The things that I am slowly forgetting. The things I didn’t write down, the things I wont remember. The forgotten things. The unremembered memories. The casual walks, and late night grocery store trips. Gummy worms. Cheep wine. Meeting new people. Seeing new things. Taking it all in. Remembering it all.

Even though I try to write, take pictures, and run over the adventures numerous times each day…there are still things I am leaving out, still things I will forget, and still things that will never be remembered again.

This trip has been awesome, that’s all I can say…because words…pictures…memories even…cant describe the way things have been. Sure, its life. And life isn’t always easy, and it has had its rough spots…but the underline of this trip has been plain and simply: Awesome.

I am thankful for the opportunity. For being given the chance to go. I hate to say good bye. Don’t want to leave behind all the wonderful things that we have done and seen. I want to stay here forever. In this moment. This perfectly happy peaceful moment. That will never make history, because its just another ordinary moment that God has given me to live. Another ordinary day. Nothing special to jog my memory about this moment. Its a moment that I am living now…

…but want to live forever.