Day #289 Writing Through COVID-19: "I Remember Now"

My brother asked me to organize another family Zoom call with our parents. When we tried this on Thanksgiving, it was a little flat. My siblings and I talked among ourselves, but my parents weren't included. 

So this time I was ready. As soon as the conversation slipped into the failure of vaccine distribution, I grabbed the reins in a blaring non sequitur: "Let's all share a holiday memory from childhood!"

Adrienne recalled the Christmas I was three and snuck down to open my stocking in the middle of the night. She remembered my chocolate-smeared face when our mom brought me back to bed, well-scolded. I, too, remember that Christmas. It's probably one of my earliest memories. I got a tiny plastic camel with movable legs. A string on its nose was attached to a small weight. When positioned on a table with the weight dropped over the edge, the camel tottered forward. I'm pretty sure this was a breakfast-cereal prize. 

Today I wondered aloud if I still remember that worthless toy because I was clutching it in my chocolaty fist when my mother caught me in the midnight ransacking of my Christmas stocking.
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My brother shared a memory of sleeping in a hand-hewn snow cave with our dad to earn a Scout badge. My sister remembered the New Year's Eve progressive dinners hosted by the families in our parents' Bridge group. We laughed as we remembered throwing marbles down the tinned laundry-shoot in the Crafts' house. That reminded us of banging pots and pans at the stroke of midnight. 

At one point in our memory tsunami, my sister asked my mom, "Do you remember that?" 

I held my breath. I learned last summer that it is best to provide my mom lots of context: she will eventually chime in. But when asked a direct question, she panics, frozen by memory gaps and her resentment at being "quizzed." 

Luckily, she responded quickly: "I remember now!" 

We all laughed.
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My siblings and I still did most of the talking today, but our parents were fully engaged. They laughed and added sprinkles of memory. 

It was the highlight of my first day of 2021.
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My parents are scheduled to receive their first COVID vaccine on Jan. 12.

Enough.
Be well.
Write.

Allison

Happy 2021!