It’s one of those days where you look out the window as the rain falls down drowning out the view across the city. Your iTunes hits the perfectly somber song to flow with the tone of the darkened sky and your mind starts to fade into distant memories.
Part of why I don’t sleep very well is that I hate remembering a lot of my past. For the past two years it’s been pretty impossible to sleep a solid night without some sort of chemical assistance (I’m only referring to completely legal over-the-counter aids or prescriptions that were written specifically for me by my medical provider). Today, listening to Please Remember Me by Tim McGraw while watching the rain dance outside my window I can’t help but be taken back to my childhood, but I’m not having one of the bad memories.
When I was young my parents took me and my sister K on a road trip through Europe. I was enthralled by the trip from beginning to end. We began in Germany where we rented an Audi to drive through multiple countries including Germany, France, Italy, Austria and Switzerland.
This trip was a once in a life time trip for a lot of people. I was very fortunate to have parents that wanted to give me this experience. Yet, what I remember most and the memories I cherish from the trip the most are beyond the obvious. Yes I loved and remember touring the salt mines of Austria, eating cheese on a mountain side in Switzerland, taking pictures from the top of the Eifel Tower and laying on the beaches of Italy, but what I cherish is what I refer to as the Tim McGraw moments.
My family, like most, has varying taste in music, but one thing we could all agree on was Tim McGraw. Cruising through the countryside from country to country I still remember my dad (technically my step-dad) singing along to Tim McGraw. Then there would be songs that just grabbed everyone’s attention and the entire family would belt out to the heavens to the sappy country lyrics of Tim McGraw’s greatest hits.
I don’t have much to say about memories like this one because they are more photographic, but sitting here with the rain falling outside the window transports me to sitting in the back seat of that dark blue Audi singing to Tim McGraw. I just remember looking in the front seat as my dad threw his head back and bellowed out the words full of joy in his voice.
During the instrumental sections he would turn and look at my mother. It was never forced, but his natural instincts. He would smile at her and grab her hand then look back at the road and sway. You could feel his love, devotion and passion in the subtly of his actions. Those simple moments are the moments that defined me (and why I feel that taking my step-dads last name was the right thing to do).
My parents have always had this love for each other that I’ve always wanted to have for me. I’ve always wanted a relationship full of that intimacy and happiness like they share. They constantly showed and taught me that showing you love someone isn’t just about saying I love you, but it can be about a simple look or action.
The memories are distant now but still inspiring to me. When I have a family one day I want myself and my husband to be the type of parents that shower love on our children and each other setting the same examples for my children that my parents set for me.
The little moments and memories from childhood are the ones you should want to hang on to. It’s taken me a long time to realize that. My therapist wanted me to tell her a story unrelated with negative events in my life so she could get a glimpse into my childhood when things were great. I always mention that I had a great childhood to her, but can never tell stories of it. This is a story from it that can shed some light into what has developed my passion for love and my belief that love is a great thing even if you have to experience horrid things on the road to finding the one for you.