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Cherished Memories

1) Cow licking my face at an animal sanctuary. First time I personally met cows. Fills me with joy.

2) Being at the beach with family and relatives when I was young. Something magical about the beach back then.

3) Being at my university at 6-9pm in history or philosophy classes. Truly wonderful experience.
 
Anything before age 15... I would just like to bury it somewhere in deep space forever.

At 17 I was basically supporting myself. I was going to school, keeping my grades up, kind of staying with one of my friends and his parents, and away from home as much as possible. They were really nice to me and helped me in more ways than I can describe.

Before school I tossed news papers, after school I worked at the farm store, or the grocery store, or the gas station, and worked summers for my friends dad who was a big farmer. I saved up my money and I bought a really nice Chevrolet 4x4 Blazer... It was the first time in my life I felt like I was in control. I owned something that would take me places far away from a life I hated.

I remember the smell of fresh cut hay and when I smell it... I think of what that smell bought me!!!
Freedom : )
 
I remember when I was about 8 watching the series finally of Star Trek: The Next Generation. It was preceded by a behind the scenes special, and the finally being a 2 hour episode, I was allowed to stay up later than normal. We had one tv in the house back then, so the whole family was gathered around. Me and my parents on an old blue couch we had, my brother and sister on the floor right in front of the couch. It was one of those rare times when nothing was wrong, everyone was happy. I can't help but smile when I think about it.

As odd as this is, whenever I hear Mark Chesnutt sing "Too Cold at Home", it beings a smile to my face. I was practically a toddler when that came out, it is one of the first music videos I remember seeing. When we moved into this house in 1991, and could finally afford cable, we used to watch CMT and the old TNN. Back when they actually showed music videos instead of reality shows. It is amazing the things that stick with you.
 
One of my most cherished memories happened in the late 90s. My parents bought us a Nintendo 64 for Christmas, along with a copy of Mario Kart 64. My two sisters (who were teenagers then) stayed at home and gamed with me and our younger brother. I clearly remember that my oldest sister was Princess Peach, my second oldest sister was Yoshi, my brother was Bowser and I was Donkey Kong. That was the only time I can remember the four of us siblings all playing together as a family. (Usually my brother and I only played with each other because we were closer in age, and occasionally one of our sisters would play with us too.) It snowed on Christmas Eve that year too, so I got to play outside in about 2 or 3 feet of snow on Christmas Day. :)
 
My gran used to have the oven right by the front door.

I came in one day wearing my glasses while she was boiling potatoes.

My glasses completely steamed up before we could even say hello.

We both creased up laughing.
 
The day before fourth of july, my neighbors would have a big party when I was younger and invite the whole neighborhood. For a couple of years, it would be crazy hot out so me and the neighbor's daughter would sit in their sun room and watch cartoon network for most of the party with no one bothering us. I have many happy memories of watching Dexter's Laboratory with her, both us eating ice cubes to stay cool.
 
I have many cherished family memories but none come to mind at the moment. This is weird af, but anyways. One of my happiest memories is being able to lay on my stomach on a cold concrete floor, I can't even remember when or where. Just that it was the greatest feeling in the world. Thinking about it now, I guess it was a stim.
 
I've got another one. I remember when I was little I was at a party that some friends of my mom's friends were having. One of her best friends son (who I didn't like) came up to me and pointed to a large wooden thing and said "That's a swing set. All of the swings are on the other side and you need to walk across it to get to the swings." Me being four and not knowing better, that's what I did. Halfway across it I wanted to get down and called for help. Someone (I can't remember who) came and got me down.

This memory always puzzled me when I was older as I couldn't figure out what I was walking on. When I told this story to my parents, they started laughing and explained what happened: all of the adults were standing around talking when someone said, "There's a little girl up there!" And everyone looked up to see me walking across an incredibly fragile rose trellis. Although I probably could have gotten hurt and that incident is probably why we were never invited back there again, I still find it to be pretty funny.
 
I have so many good memories hardly know where to start. A vivid one was when my parents took us kids (I was 15) around the USA for 2 months one summer camping so we could learn first hand about our country. We were camped at Yellowstone National Park and one morning I woke up very early hearing a strange noise outside our tent. Finally I got up to look outside. There was a large bear with our metal footlocker filled with food and batting it around the campsite. I was terrified and woke up my father. He kept saying "there's no bear out there, go back to sleep." I kept insisting there was a bear who might stumble into our tent. My memory is seeing my dad from behind, wearing his long red underpants, sticking out his butt while poking his head out of the tent opening and saying " Damn , there really is a bear out there."
 
When I was little my father worked as a mechanic on a flood control dam. One of his jobs besides fixing things and maintaining the hydraulic systems that ran the gates was plowing the 2-3 mile stretch of access road through the park that led to the dam during the winter.

Every night during a snow storm he would load me fuzzy slippers and all into the coal black 70 something Dodge power wagon equipped every fall with a bright yellow plow.

When the plow hit the snow it would fly up and reflect in the lights like a million glittering diamonds showering down around you. Except for the whine of the engine and the click of the gearshift it was like we were the last 2 people on earth, sometimes my dad would stop the truck and turn it off for a few minutes and open the window the total silence and the moon that sometimes reflected off the freshly fallen snow was something I can still remember like it was yesterday 40+ years later...and every time it snows during the night I still creep out on the porch very late at night and listen to the silence...and remember.
 
I have a lot of memories of my childhood and how wild I used to be. When I was four my mom and dad had a water bed and I wanted one too. One rainy day I decided to try to make one. I got a cooking pot and began filling it up with water and bringing it back to my bed and pouring it on my bed. I thought the water would stay in my mattress and eventually be like a water bed. I kept getting water from the kitchen and pouring it on my bed. Then my mom saw me taking the pot full of water to my room and asked what I was doing. I told her I was making a water bed and she looked very angry. She went in my room and I told her what I had been doing. Then we looked under the bed to find a big puddle of water under there. The water went right through my mattress and onto the floor. My mom had to take the mattress on the front porch and let it dry out before I could use it again. I was pretty good at making messes but this was one of the worst ones I made.
 
That's pretty funny! It reminds me of the last time we ever washed a car as a family. Halfway through washing the car, my brother said, "Dad I cleaned the tailpipe for you! I just shoved the hose up it and now it's clean!" My parents spent the rest of the afternoon frantically figuring out if that had harmed the car in any way. It was fine, but we always went to a car wash to clean the cars after that.
 
I have a cherished memory from my early teen years. I refer to it as 200 miles, which took place before Christmas - my fave time of the year.

My mu was 200 miles away staying with my gran who was ill at the time. My dad had been working away and I was staying home with my brothers. My dad came back on the 23rd of December, it was a surprise and we were all really glad to see him. When we explained where mum was he suggested that we all travel over to where she was just in time for Christmas. I knew she would love that, it would be the perfect Christmas present for her and gran. On Christmas Eve we set off really early. There had been a lot of snowfall over night but my dad's a very good driver and he knew how far he could push his car. The journey was slow going and this is the bit that I remember really well! Last Christmas by Wham was on the Christmas disc and the rest of the CD multi changer wouldn't play any other disc or track so all the way there we repeatedly heard Last Christmas. :p

We went through deep snow and at times only did about 15mph. My dad's car was a Vauxhall Senator 24v, they were exceptionally good at road handling and that journey proved it. We drove through windy snow blizzards and at times the wipers could hardly clear the windscreen, snow was everywhere!! I was so scared.
All the way through the snow all you could hear was the wind howling and snow was being thrown all over the place. You could see other cars sliding on the snow and nearly every corner I was scared we were going to crash!!

By mid afternoon approaching evening we'd left the snow far, far behind and were now travelling through heavy rain. I took these pictures on our journey that day, the rain was so heavy at times we struggled t see what was ahead. :oops:

Rain Journey.png

Rain Journey2.png

The rain was scary because it made it hard to see, but we pushed on only stopping for short rests and fuel. As we got closer to where my mum and gran were the rain eased and the weather settled. It was cold but the sun was shining in places. But after a long and tedious journey, before 7pm we made it to my mum and gran. I'll never forget the smiles on their faces when they saw us arrive, that made my Christmas and I couldn't have asked for a better present for us all. :)

And then, incredibly on Christmas Day it was a bright and sunny day. My dad's car below having a much deserved rest... :p

Senator 1.png

It was a 200 mile journey and I haven't had quite an exciting Christmas since... But then again, I'm not sure if I'd want to go through all that horrible weather again... ;)

This is by far my most favourite Christmas ever!! I love thinking about that journey and will always remember how happy everyone was when we finally reached my mum and gran. :)
 
Old thread but it's being featured.

When I was little I spent a lot of time at my grandma and grandpas, while my folks went out. My grandpa permanently slept on the couch, so I'd sleep at the other end and it was always soft and warm, you'd sink into it. Or in grandma's bed she would pedal her socked feet under the blanket and throw sparks in the dark. For whatever reason I've never been able to do that, I've tried many times. We would ride along back roads in the back of their station wagon, seats folded down and toys in the back, grandpa couldn't get me lost. Me and grandma would watch Saturday night TV and even some kinda freaky late movies, or put puzzles together into the night. Today I find myself enjoying traveling some of those same back roads along with ones behind my own house, finding some of those same shows and movies on DVD, doing puzzles at night, and even driving station wagons more than anything else. I had a dream this winter that me and grandpa were sleeping in the the old station wagon in a snowstorm, but it was warm and cozy. Wish I could have it again. Now grandma is 90 and in a home, and grandpa died in 2004.
 
This memory pertains to the autistic tendency to literally interpret wording.

About 5 years ago, I was in a crowded university classroom. Along with a few other goofballs, I used to steal the professor's chalk and draw funny pictures on the board. This professor was a soil scientist. I drew a picture of a bobble-headed googly-eyed guy marveling at some soil, which my friends and I considered to be mundane.

Then, they loudly whispered to me that the professor was coming, and that I should run back to my seat, so that the professor wouldn't know whom, among the seated crowd, drew the picture. Unfortunately, the professor witnessed me running back to my seat. He angrily demanded, to me, "Do you think this is funny?"
I replied, "Yes."
Apparently, that was the wrong answer, since I didn't lie.
 
You know, just the other day I was thinking that I had no happy memories, because even the ones that should be happy are tainted by fear and failure. But that's not actually true. It's just that my fondest memories aren't about things like my first kiss (which was a disaster) or getting my first job (which was a relief but at which point I was so numb after years of job-hunting that I didn't feel anything more than that). It's not the big moments. It's weirdly small ones, even some ones that should properly be sad.

So here, strangers on the Internet - have a list of my greatest hits:



Sitting up all night writing a story to dedicate to someone I was in love with, crazy with caffeine and inspiration and infatuation, crying "FOR YOU! FOR YOU!" in my head all the while.

Walking down the street years later and realising that I was about to burst into song, because that same person had told me that she loved me back.

Messing around with her in text messages and World of Warcraft, cracking stupid jokes, playing off each other, knowing we were a team and we made each other happy.

Seeing the sun rise over the Nile, the water so blue and the fields so green and the desert hills looming over it, and realising that of course they made a mythology out of this, of course they did, how could anyone wake up to this every day of their life and not start thinking about gods?

Telling the psychiatrist who diagnosed me with Aspergers that I'd always wanted to follow the rules and make the authorities proud, but the system had given up on me, and her telling me, "I'm part of the system. We haven't given up on you."

Meeting my mom at the door after I'd called her in despair telling her I wanted to kill myself, hearing her whisper "my little boy, my little boy" with tears in her eyes and knowing at my lowest point when everything inside of me seemed to have turned to **** that somehow, someone still loved me.

Eating a pizza a friend had prepared for me, and which might just be the finest thing I've ever tasted, and feeling pampered, and loved, and blessed.

Chickening out at the Matteo Thun's Viewing Platform at Trautmannsdorf and running back to firm ground after two steps out... and that same friend telling me, "that happened because you looked down. Now take my hand, and don't look down." And leading me, step by step, all the way up to the edge so I could look down on the garden, and not be afraid.

Watching a live performance of Wicked at a theatre in London, knowing that for once I wasn't cowering at home watching crappy YouTube videos, I was out in the world and I was watching something beautiful happening right in front of me.
 
When i told someone i loved "i am glad you were born" and i meant it and she smiled. It felt like i was able to give someone some happiness.
 
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