Journal--A Collection of Memories

I was teaching a voice lesson today and in doing so, I was explaining the text. Let me share the words. They are from a beautiful song called The Ash Grove. It is an Old Welsh melody arranged by Roger Quilter. The words are by Rodney Bennett.

The Ash Grove

Away in the shadows a lone bird is singing,

The wind whispers low in a sighing refrain;

Their music makes memory's voices go winging:

The Ash Grove in beauty I see once again;

The voices of friends that the long years have taken,

Oh faintly I hear them, the song and the word.

How much in the heart can so little awaken:

The wind in the leaves and the song of a bird!

How little we knew, as we laughed there so lightly,

And time seemed to us to stretch endless away,

The hopes that then shone like a vision so brightly

Could fade as a dream at the coming of day!

And still, spite of sorrow, whene'er I remember,

My thoughts will return like a bird to the nest,

 No matter though summer may wane to December,

And there in the Ash Grove my heart be at rest.

I have always loved this song, but I don't think I ever really thought about what the words meant until I have had to explain them to my voice student over the past couple of weeks. The words are wistful, but by no means sad.

This song is about how something can happen around us to remind us of times that are past. When we reflect on those memories, it sometimes seems like a dream. Things always turn out differently than what we expect...because how could we know all of the joys and sorrows to come? There is no way that we could imagine or anticipate both the good and the bad that come during the course of a lifetime. I love that we can look back on our memories and still feel joy in our remembrance. Our memories can literally take us back to a different place and time. Additionally, those memories can indeed bring rest to our hearts.

I think this can apply to many memories that I have from my own life. They seem like a dream--like a different lifetime, or a good book that you read a long time ago, or even like they might have been part of someone else's life.

When I was young, I loved to roller skate. I don't now. Perhaps I am more self-conscious now, or because I have lousy balance and I don't like the feeling of not being sure-footed. However, when I was a kid, I would roller skate down our driveway (which was a gentle, but long hill). I would put my arms out and feel the wind in my face and hair. I imagined I was an eagle soaring over mountains.

Commonplace things were magical. There was a ditch by our house that had a small stream flowing through it. It was surrounded by trees, wildflowers, and vegetation. I almost felt like I was a magical being myself when I went there.

I had so much imagination as a child. I remember my sister and I vivaciously shaking the fall leaves off of our trees because we were pretending to be fairies who were helping to bring on the winter. That was definitely a different lifetime, because I will now do anything it takes to prolong the autumn and keep winter from coming.

We had an old tent that was missing far too many tent poles. The tent poles we did still have became "locks" for our basement sliding doors. The tent, itself, was in pretty decent shape. It was huge. Children find some pretty extraordinary uses for some pretty ordinary things sometimes. One particularly windy day, we found that we could still get some use out of our tent. We took the tent out onto our deck and unzipped the front door of the tent and faced it towards the wind. The entire tent filled up like a balloon. We positioned ourselves as internal "stakes" inside the tent to hold it down. I can't tell you how much fun it was to sit in that wind-filled tent with my brothers and sisters as the wind whipped my hair and clothes around.

We had so many amazing times on that deck as children. I remember piling all of our blankets and sleeping bags (unzipped and laid flat) one on top of the other so that we created a huge mattress for outdoor summer sleep-outs under the stars. I remember looking at the galaxies above me and feeling comfortably warm with the wonderful weight of all those blankets and sleeping bags on top of me.

There were a number of wild cats in our neighborhood. One cat, who we simply called "Big Mama" (pretty much because she was a larger cat and she was perpetually having litters of kittens), would keep her kittens under our broken down hot tub. We became quite expert in catching and taming those wild kittens. One of our methods was to tie a rope to a pillow case, and put some tuna fish into the pillow case (now, as a mom, all that makes me think of is laundry). Once the kitten went into the pillowcase to get some tuna fish, we would simply pull the pillowcase up and we would have a kitty to love and to tame.

I have so many memories of being outside...it feels like I must have been outside all the time while it was warm. I seem to remember always being barefoot with wild hair too. Now, I don't really like being barefoot anywhere--even in my own house, I wear socks, slippers, or flip-flops if I am not wearing shoes.

Those memories take me back to another time. However, these childhood memories aren't the only ones that bring me back to a place of peace and joy. 

In fact, as I was explaining the words to this song, the memory that came back to me the most vividly was something that was repeated so often that it almost defines, for me at least, my college experience. I loved to study outdoors on the BYU campus. I would purposefully schedule my classes so that I had hour-long breaks to spend on campus studying or doing homework for my next class. I wistfully look back on those days quite often. At the time, I appreciated it and enjoyed it. After I graduated, being outside all the time was one of the things that I missed the very most. The 40 hour work week just seemed so drab and monotonous in comparison. 

The funny thing is that now, as a mom, I get to go outside quite a lot...but I am never outside alone. I am always watching my boys, or helping them on the slide, swings, etc. As a college student, I don't think I had any idea what a gift that was. A gift of time. A gift of experience. As I look back on it, I can still feel the sun on my head, back, and arms as I study my textbooks. I can still feel the wind causing the pages of my book to gently flutter. I can see and feel the green grass around me...followed by the autumn leaves gently falling around me...and later the hope and renewal that I felt in my heart as the flowering trees on campus opened their buds and colored the campus with an array of pastels.

Time was in my hands back then. I would constantly drive into Provo canyon simply to read my scriptures in the surroundings of the mountains. Can you imagine? I certainly don't have time to drive to the woods to read my scriptures anymore. In fact, these days, it is hard enough for me to find time to read my scriptures at all!

As I look back on these times, I feel peace and fulfillment. I do feel wistful, but I never feel regret. At the same time, I know that we are constantly creating these kinds of memories. While we are in the midst of making them, we don't always realize that it will leave such a lasting impression.

I know that the days of me taking my boys to a playground will not last forever. Someday I will have time to myself again. Someday I will be able to go outside by myself and sit in the sun and read. Someday I will even be able to drive into the mountains for a good scripture study session alone if I want to. Yet when those days come, I will no longer have little boys to play with on the playground. Then I will look back at the days I am living now as golden memories where my boys were so small that I could pick them up and carry them, and cuddle them in a blanket while we watched Peter Pan.

It is amazing to me how many lessons life can teach us. The lesson of appreciating the life we are currently living. The blessing that we do have memories to take us back to such beautiful times in our lives. The realization that things change, and some things don't last forever.

I am grateful for the experiences I have had. I am lucky to be having the experiences that I am currently in the midst of. I look forward with anticipation for what is to come.