THAT WAS THEN

        Lost edges are not just people who are forgotten or pushed to the background, and they are not always sad or depressing. Our memories are full of lost edges, the ones that we have not thought of in a long time, that are brought back for whatever reason. The best ones are the ones that make you smile.
        When an artist is working on a painting and he or she wants to make something stand out, they put a brighter or contrasting color of paint on a brush and make a simple stroke that draws the eye to that edge.
        Sometimes all it takes is a simple brushstroke to bring a memory back where we can enjoy the thoughts that make us smile. The brushstrokes in our minds are sounds, smells, sights, and even touch. Perhaps it is a certain song that takes you back to a special time and place. Or a smell of baked goods that remind you of a mom or grandmother and their special treats she would give to you. It could even be the scent of a perfume or cologne that transports you back to when you met the love of your life. There are many sparks that can rekindle our older, pleasant memories. We may not even be aware that we are creating memories whenever we take the time to talk to, or even better, listen to a child or young adult.
       In a recent writing class at college, we were asked to write about a special place in our childhood and describe the way we remember it. The we were to describe it as we might see it now.  The following is what I wrote.

That was then…..

        I am sitting underneath a concrete bridge that crosses a sand wash near my home in New Mexico.  It is a hot summer day and I just had a fight with one of my brothers or sisters. Underneath the bridge it is cool, quiet, and shaded.  My back is against the concrete side and I feel the coolness of the cement through my shirt.

        As I look north, I see the sand wash stretching for about a quarter mile.  It is smooth from all the flash floods that have passed through over the years.  The sand is very hot, especially in the summer, making shoes a necessity. Farther to the north, I see thunderstorms building over the mountains. I know that if I see the rain starting up there that I must leave my place of solitude and move to higher ground. But for now, the peace and quiet is very nice.

This is now….

         The place where I spent so much time as a child, dreaming, thinking, and escaping, looks so different now that I am an adult. The bridge has more cracks and the steel is rusted.  The chips in the concrete remind me of the scars that I carry on my body, and I feel connected to the bridge.The sand wash has been changed by the water that has changed course several times over the years. 

        My shady spot is still there, although it seems somewhat smaller. Getting down the side of the ravine is harder now due to my knees, but the concrete is still cool on my back as I lean back and enjoy the peace and quiet.