Them Mental Pitchers

From as far back as I can remember, attention to detail has been a hallmark of my memories in the form of ‘mental pitchers.’ Though I may not recall exact dates, I can vividly recount where I was, the weather, and the people I encountered decades ago.

Ask me about my activities last week or yesterday, and I could not tell you. There is not much out there these days that feels worth remembering.

There is a yearning in me to reconnect with my roots, to return to a time when community, love for life and one another, and a strong belief in a higher power were the pillars of society. They are core values.

My childhood memories are particularly cherished. Growing up in the countryside, I have always believed that being close to nature brings one closer to God. I recall a blue-cold day with a red fox darting across a field, sitting with an aged marmot on a stump, offering comfort in the final hour of its life and the simple pleasure of watching the sun rise and set.

These memories are more than just visual; they are almost panoramic, filled with the sounds, smells, and emotions of the time. I remember the changing seasons, from the green of summer to the crimson hues of fall and the bare, skeletal trees of winter.

How vividly do I remember the cows by the creek, their peaceful demeanor, and the soft jangle of bells collared around their necks. I also remember lying under aspen trees by a wood bridge, daydreaming about catching a legendary fish named George. Despite numerous attempts, George eluded capture, flip-flopping about as I tried pulling the hook out.

As a child, I spent lonely hours watching clouds transform into shapes of dogs, pirates, and angels before reverting to their original forms. I remember standing in a pasture with my dog, King, as a summer storm approached. Racing the storm back home, King and I got soaked, an exhilarating experience that made the warmth of home even more comforting.

Not all memories come without hazards, having stripped off my wet clothes and stood before the fireplace to dry off. I recall winching from standing too close and burning my behind. It was like being branded.

Running in the rain, the smell of fresh-cut summer lawns, and the feel of a pat on the back from an approving parent are memories that many can relate to. These experiences are part of my human experience, especially for those who grew up like I did.

In a world where we reportedly use only six percent of our brains, memories are an untapped potential. They are a mental escape from reality, a source of joy and comfort that costs nothing.

So, take a moment to sit quietly and let your mind wander. Close your eyes, revisit your fondest memories, and maybe write down a few later.

Memories and the ‘mental pitchers,’ they bring are your defense to keeping your mind healthy and vibrant. In a time when many of us are overwhelmed by the present, embracing our past can provide a much-needed respite and a reminder of the simple joys that make life worthwhile.