What I want on my birthday (swunked from sartorias - never let a good idea go to waste)

[fpb]

So, tomorrow I turn 46.

Here is my wish, for anyone dropping by, who has a few extra seconds: you share with me some special memory. This was sartorias' suggestion, which I cannot improve upon: I know how busy people are. It doesn't have to be long. One good thing about having a brain wired for image is that the briefest reference to, say, "The day i saw a triple rainbow" brings immediately to mind the day when I was ten that I saw a triple rainbow. There I am on my bike, riding downhill as fast as I can because the biggest rainbow ends, so clearly, right where Linda C lives, at the bottom of the hill below school, where two streets converge...the light is silvery-gray, and smells of wet pavement and grass, there are three levels of clouds and all of them ragged. How I loved the magic of that day--even if the end of the rainbow kept moving. But somehow it was better to never find the end.

And incidentally: happy birthday to bdunbar and to the lovely purple_mirie!

Comments

[cruft.livejournal.com]

One time my younger sister and I lit a fire on a little hill out on our family's pasture land. We played Injuns out there all the time, so it was all in a day's work. Seeing the smoke, our grandfather waded at full speed across a flooded creek to find and subdue the fire. I don't recall our hides getting tanned, so we must have escaped somehow.

[fpb.livejournal.com]

I don't know why that should be funny, but it is. Thank you.

[cruft.livejournal.com]

Happy birthday!

[curia-regis.livejournal.com]

The first time I read Xenocide by Orson Scott Card. He manages to write about religion and ethics in a way that fascinates me. It just felt like I was in his world and I loved it.

[curia-regis.livejournal.com]

Oh and happy birthday for tomorrow! (This is totally the last time 'm saying it.)

[fpb.livejournal.com]

Say it as often as you like - I won't get offended. 8-)

[headnoises.livejournal.com]

When I was three, my grandfather use to play Indians with me when the dishwasher was running. (Grandma had to wheel it out and across the kitchen to hook it up to the sink, so there was a lovely cave just perfect for this.)

[fpb.livejournal.com]

Awww, how cute. Thank you.

[un-crayon-rouge.livejournal.com]

My best memory, and the one I recall the most often when things are dreary and nothing makes much sense, is being 10 or 11 years old, sprawled on my bed in my room on a sunny afternoon, reading. Homework done, chores finished, just silence and me and a book and countless adventures. Life was good then.

Happy birthday!

[fpb.livejournal.com]

That is a mood one does sometimes recapture when a good book or comic is at hand and it is late afternoon and NO crap coming down. Thank you.

[sartorias.livejournal.com]

I shared this with Susanwrites, but I'm sharing it with you. I've always had insomnia (ahem! Look at mt timestamp_), where I'd waken in the middle of the night and lie there thinking, then fall asleep again. This one time I was about eight, and for the first time, I thought about learning. As I stared up at the white part of the ceiling with the fake plaster festoons and the pink walls, dimly lit by reflection from the street lamp in front of the neighbor's, I saw myself crouched down inside a clay cave. Every new thing I learned was like a gouge with my fingernails in the wall of the cave. The side walls were for learning how to do things. But above me was learning about the world, the universe, and beyond. I thought, if I just gouge out enough clay--learn enough things--some day I will break through to the sky, and beyond the sky, because I will know everything and be wise.

Well, I was eight. *wry grin*

[fpb.livejournal.com]

That's quite young to be getting Platonic images. Thank you.

Just because its you....

[stigandnasty919.livejournal.com]

Happy Birthday.

St Valentine's day, nine years ago this past February about 10:00am. I'm sitting in front of the fireplace, newly surrounded by a black metal cage that seals off both the fire itself and the stone surround. My wife is in the kitchen, cleaning, for the third or fourth time that morning, surfaces that were spotless to begin with. I'm more nervous than I have ever been in my life and the clock moves more slowly than I can imagine, I check it two or three times to make sure it hasn't stopped.

A car turns into the driveway, and I can see the driver just ten or twelve feet away from me, a large friendly woman I've grown to know well over the past three years, she smiles at me with a smile so broad it threatens to split her face open. Now I'm terrified, this is really happening. I shout for my wife and we walk to the front door. The woman is out of the car now, bending over the passenger seat and fiddling with straps and buckles. She steps back.

"Do you want to take her Peter?".

I reach in and lift a small child out of a car. She coos and laughs, her hands coming up to my face and grabbing at my beard.

"I just need you to sign something" says the woman, "and then I'll leave you be, but call me if you need anything!".

I probably nod my head, I've heard the words but their meaning doesn't register. We go into the house sign some papers and the woman leaves. The little girl struggles in my arms, she wants down onto the floor. I set her down and she uses the sofa to drag herself onto her feet. Very steady for ten months old, she walks back and forth between my wife and myself, neither of us quite knowing what to do.

Finally we decide we ought to feed her, my wife makes the bottle and the little girl is placed onto my lap. I hold her, feeding her the warmed milk, when the bottle is empty she throws it across the room, lowers her head into the crook of my arm and falls asleep.

In that moment, that tiny moment of time, all my fears and doubts disappear. In a few hours the social worker will be back to take this little girl back to her foster parents. Three more days of visits like this and then she will be with us forever.

Until then I'd been terrified, would I be able to bond with a child that was not my own? Would there be a distance, a gulf between us, did I really, really want to do this. Now there was no question.

She's ten now, and the idea that I could ever have had any sort of doubts seems utterly insane.

Re: Just because its you....

[fpb.livejournal.com]

And may it be a happy and loving relationship for the rest of your lives. Thank you.

[super-pan.livejournal.com]

Happy Birthday!

One time when I was a very young child, my family was friends with the family across the street, and we children would exchange Christmas gifts. One year, I and the girl gave each other the same gift (I can't remember what it was, I think it was a doll), and my brother and the older boy gave each the same gift, which were rubber bats. We always thought it was so crazy, but just this past year, I was talking to my husband (who also lived his early years in the same small town I grew up in), and he said he also had one of those bats, and he remembered where he got it too. We then realized there was basically one major place where you got toys like that (back then), and so it was actually not such a crazy coincidence that we all got each other the same toys.

I really like this idea alot, and I can't wait to do it on my birthday!

[fpb.livejournal.com]

For that, thank sartorias. And thank you.

[bdunbar.livejournal.com]

And incidentally: happy birthday to [info]bdunbar

Thank you very much! And to you, as well.

....

Sunset, Okinawa Japan. Out for a stroll by the water I witnessed (from a distance) a baptism. A lay preacher had taken some of his flock into the surf and was dunking and baptism, pray aloud .... the time of the day, the sun slanting across the ocean as it set in the west ... it was memorable.

[fpb.livejournal.com]

I dare say that that image must have meant more to someone who belongs in the American Protestant tradition - I would have had trouble even understanding what was going on. But that is one of the great things about this Livejournal business - getting to understand how others think and imagine. Thanks for your memory!

[tashmania.livejournal.com]

Happy birthday to yooou!

It just so happens the first memory that came into my mind upon reading this was from the first time I went to Rome! It must be the effect you have on me, haha!

Anyway, onwards. The first day after we arrived, we decided to go for a walk around the city near our hotel. I still remember walking down the road, and stopping dead when I realised I was looking upon the ruins of the ancient forum. I saw the ruins of Curia, the temple of Vesta, the main square; it took so long to just take it all in. It was at that moment that it clicked that everything I'd read about in books, all I'd studied at school, it had existed, it was real. Two thousand years ago, people had lived, walked, prayed, loved and lost in the very place that I was now looking upon. History became real for me, if you will, and it just blew me away. I treasure that memory.

[fpb.livejournal.com]

On the other hand (see above), I have no trouble at all understanding this one. It is an experience that Rome's own citizens often have. You know you are a Roman when you have said at least once: "More often than not, this city drives me mad. But every now and then I just stop and feel overwhelmed by how beautiful it is." Or rather, "how beautiful she is" - Rome is always, definitely, female. And not just beautiful, but laden with history and meaning. Incidentally, I had a somewhat similar experience visiting a few local temples in Madras and Bangalore.

Thank you.

[sanscouronne.livejournal.com]

When I was little, my Maltese grandmother would sometimes come and stay at our house. And though we are a Catholic family, my grandmother brought with her the beauty and mystery of the "Old World" and the traditions of Catholicism that seem so distant to Americans.

Every morning, upon rising, she would say the rosary out loud. Sometimes I would stand outside her door and listen to her whisper the prayers in Latin. English being my primary language, the sound of the Latin prayers seemed so mystical and sacred to me. There was always something very comforting and simply beautiful about the sound of my grandmother diligently chanting the rosary. In a way, I sort of unconsciously connect your Italian heritage/Catholic faith/many posts about the Church with these lovely memories of my grandmother.

I wish you the happiest of birthdays, Fabio. This was an excellent thing to do in honor of it, because in conjuring happy memories, we can celebrate your day and send those good feelings to you. :)

[fpb.livejournal.com]

And reclaim them for yourselves. Thank you.

[rfachir.livejournal.com]

I'll give you a few because "use it or lose it" is my new motto:

My best friends and I, on a blistering hot day in Washington, humidity so bad we could barely breathe, sitting in the last 6 square feet of shade in the park listening to Julio Iglesias croon with the Marine Band, then watching the fireworks when the sun finally went down.

Visiting, sick to my stomach, in my mother's hospital room, scared to wake her up for fear she couldn't wake up after a stroke. Then having her wake up and yell (quietly) at me for even considering letting her sleep, and telling me how she would have cried if she had missed the visit.

Watching my children in a concert singing with the rest of their school, "the rest is still unwritten" and really believing the words.

Remembering all my friends, who always are there when I need them most - my personal proto-saints, pulling for me from afar (and occasionally as crazy as some of the real ones. (A movie described them as being, "Touched. Touched by God, but definitely touched.")

[fpb.livejournal.com]

And you are one such to me. Thank you and thank you for your friendship.

Happy Birthday.

[affablestranger.livejournal.com]

:)

I remember the first time I held my two sons, Nicholas and Christopher. They were a month old and they were pink and still had that "new baby" smell. They're little puffy eyes stayed closed, but their furrowed brows showed they were being bombarded by all sorts of new sensory stimuli. And they both grabbed my fingers as hard as they could, as if trying to keep me close by. I always think it's funny that their first image of me wasn't really an image but a smell and a tactile sensation.

Re: Happy Birthday.

[fpb.livejournal.com]

My God, that's sweet. Thank you.

[cheyinka]

When I first met the man who is now my husband, it was at the airport, and since it was before 9/11, people could wait for arriving passengers right at the gate. So there I was, my dad looming ominously behind me, when I saw a young man who approximately matched the description I'd been given, wearing a t-shirt from the game we played, walking out into the waiting area.

He saw me (matching the picture I'd sent him in the mail, I assume), wearing a matching t-shirt, and grinned at me in a way that lit up his whole face. And then walked on over and greeted me by my character name. :)

[fpb.livejournal.com]

And may it last for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, with God's blessing and my best wishes, till death do you part. Thank you.

Happy birthday!

[guarani]

As a child, I remember being drawn to guitars. If someone was playing one, I could be found in his or her vicinity for sure. I think I started asking for one when I was five and didn't stop until I got one. I must have been very insistent and determined, because I received my first guitar as a birthday present... when I turned 7! That first guitar has gone for a long time, but I still remember it clearly.

Re: Happy birthday!

[fpb.livejournal.com]

And how's your playing now? Maybe one day you'll demonstrate it to me in person. Thank you.

Re: Happy birthday!

[guarani]

A picture paints a thousand words... Check http://guarani.livejournal.com/30740.html and let me know how you think it is :)

And if things go as planned, I may indeed do it in 2009 or 2010!

Re: Happy birthday!

[fpb.livejournal.com]

Effin' impressive! I admire (and am jealous as Hell of) anyone who can really play, and that looked complicated and sounded beautiful. Gives me something to look forward to.

Re: Happy birthday!

[guarani]

Take into account that I've spent more than half of my life learning the instrument...

Re: Happy birthday!

[fpb.livejournal.com]

I recently found out that at the time when I was - all too briefly - at the King's School, Canterbury, in my teens, one of the music teachers there (presumably the most senior) was Ronald Smith. Look him up. Sickeningly, I can say that I actually made an effort to take advantage of the school's music teaching - which came unstuck when I was forced to leave the school for money and family reasons. The thought that I just could have got to being taught the piano by one of the world's greatest virtuosi of all time just makes me sick, even today. Music is my lifelong love - especially classical - but I never got back to learning to play.

Re: Happy birthday!

[guarani]

It's never late to start learning, you know, especially if you don't aim at pursuing a performing career. You need a good teacher and time to practice.

[elegant-bonfire.livejournal.com]

One memory that will be with me forever is one from the first big dressage show I went to (as a groom). I got to see international level riders for the first time, which was magical, and then in the evening the musical freestyles were held in the big indoor arena. It was a beautiful August night, music from the freestyles was floating over the whole show grounds over the PA, and all the horses were in their stalls, legs wrapped and groomed and happily munching hay from their haynets. The grooms and riders were all sitting around in lawn chairs, having a drink or a diet coke and talking over all the days rides (as you do). I was so filled with joy that I felt like I would explode, and little stars should be spiraling out of the top of my head.

Happy birthday!

[fpb.livejournal.com]

Isn't it great when you first find yourself in the real professional environment you have been preparing for all your life, and find that you belong and that you understand and are understood? Like the time I lectured (briefly) an audience of scholars in Dublin. I think I know what you mean.

Thank you.

[elegant-bonfire.livejournal.com]

That first line is a great description. I miss the horse industry keenly, and to this day I can walk into a stable and instantly feel like I belong. Your lecture experience would have been like the first time I gave a professional riding lesson, I think. When I walked into the arena and saw a couple of people on horses waiting for their instructor (me!) I got so nervous I felt sick to my stomach. But then I focused on the horses and riders and what I was seeing, and when I opened my mouth I heard everything come out that my awesome trainers had taught me, to be passed on to the next riding generation.

[fishlivejournal.livejournal.com]

Once on a gorgeous summer day, a single cloud stretched from horizon to horizon - the wind had striated most of it, making it look like a long feather hanging in the sky.

An incredibly busy lunchtime, with queues at the post office stretching out the door. The staff were working like dogs, and to my surprise I was at the counter within 10 minutes. While the harassed woman behind the counter dealt with my parcel, I casually mentioned how good a job they were doing, and how I'd expected to be in the queue twice as long:
years dropped away from her, and she was almost floating on air as she moved; a strange smile on her face. I'd never before realised just how much difference a simple genuine compliment can make.

Hopefully I will update my own journal shortly - as I have other memories to talk about.

[fpb.livejournal.com]

I had the same experience, at about fourteen, with our local newsstand owner, whom I had never seen smile until I casually wished him a Happy Christmas. It has always been a principle with me, since, never to let the opportunity to praise someone or say a good word go untaken.

Thank you.

[leia-naberrie.livejournal.com]

Happy birthday dear friend!!

I can’t believe I didn’t forget, I just… didn’t remember! I am beyond embarrassed! Whatever can I do to make up for being such a forgetful old miss! I can write fic or make icons, just let me know!

---

Edit: My special memory.

There was this early morning when I woke up after a bitter, cold night. I was camping outdoors and I stepped out of my tent and I saw a white wolf. It was probably the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen up close. We just looked at each other for a few minutes. Then he - I'm guessing? - walked away. When I told my friends later, they were horrified because wolves are supposed to be really dangerous. But I wasn't afraid for one minute and I still believe deep down that I was never in any danger from that animal. We just bonded...