The sounds of our life? I think our brain can be a magnificent recording device. I am talking about the part of our brain that helps us recognize and recall sounds that we have heard. Some sounds bring back great, wonderful memories and some sounds can be of nightmares. I am sure that everyone has a different amount of sounds they can and desire to remember. I love sounds. Let me just talk about a few of the sounds that I can relate to. The sounds that make up who I am, what I believe I am.
The sound of my favorite childhood record starting up with the sound of a big phonograph needle scratching across the record–I have long ago forgotton the name of the rcord but I do recall a favorite song on the record, “Never smile at a Crocodile.” How ’bout the summer sound of the Ice Cream truck bell ringing throughout the neighborhood or the sound of the screen door spring screeching out and the bang of the wood on wood as it slammed shut. Oh. such were the summer memories that come to me when I hear these sounds, the sounds of my childhood as I remember them.
The sound of rustling leaves as we raked up the millions that were in our yards and how it sounded as we jumped and played in the pile of them. Certainly the sounds from nature fill my head but it is vivid in my brain the sound of my Grandmother singing “Hello Dolly” to me when I was sick. I so fondly remember the old man who handed out milk and cookies at our religious school–his heavy Polish accent being one of a kind to me for many many years.
The sounds we have in our minds are not all ones that we desire to remember but we remember them as well. Like the sound of the driver slamming on his brakes as he ran over my neighbor’s dog that I so loved to play with. Some of our memories are also common memories to many people because they have been mass produced and heard over and over. Before I was alive, F.D.R.’s voice telling all about December 7th. is a sound most Americans can remember. The sound of J.F.K. talking about the torch being passed is of my generation. I can even recall in my mind the very famous sound of Thomas Edison saying Mary had a little lamb.
All of these kind of sounds are bouncing around my head and colliding with my memories at times. Some bring smiles and reminces that are good and some bring melancholy and sadness. If I could know that many would fade into dust and fog, I would have done a much better job at listening and remembering the ones that I now yearn for during my adulthood. I wish to remember more clearly the sound of my family singing Happy Birthday, the voice of my cousin who died when we were young or the purr of my little cat when I was a child. How I wish I could recall the sound of my family sitting around the kitchen table recalling their life experiences during the Depression and World War 2. The sounds I can remember make up my character to this day, ingredients in my soul, the little parts that make my life–This is what I believe.
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