Memory Monday: What Wednesdays Used to Mean

I got the old photo albums out the other day. The ones with pictures of me when I was small, and of Meah, too. Pages filled with my smiling parents, arms around each other. Meah here petting a rabbit at the County Fair; me there crying on the carnival ride I thought I wanted to go on but changed my mind too late. 
Memories.
     It's funny what change can do to memories. Change like your parent's divorce or your sister's death. Drastic changes can make true remembrances seem instead like mirages so that when you get close you see they are not what you thought they were; what you thought you remembered. But that is Satan's lie, for they are what they were when they were made-fossils from a time, frozen and preserved. Though life now may look drastically different from the times of those memories, they are still true. Aren't they?
     It's then that I realized I needed to preserve those memories. Fossilize them right where they were when they were made. Put words to the pictures I know so well. Put words to the life I can forget if I'm not careful. A sister I loved, now gone. A family I cherished, now scattered. But I have those memories. And in them- the pulse, the heartbeat of a time I long to remember. A time that made me, largely, who I am right now. A time I can't find anymore but know was there because of the memories.
     Do you want to join me? Lock arms with me as I toddle down that lane? You know the one- that lane with all the memories. Perhaps you, too, have some that need revisiting, need refocusing, just need conjured up for a while. Perhaps you have some you need to preserve? Lock arms with me then. Toddle with me now. We'll see what we can see. We'll find what we can remember.


So thank you for joining me for Memory Monday. And here is what Wednesdays used to mean.


My dad has worked for Shopko since before I was born. He started out as the guy you call when somebody steals something, and worked his way up to manager of the whole store- a position he still holds. He worked mostly day hours when we were little, but on Wednesday nights he had to close the store, which meant he wasn't home until Meah and I were asleep. So Wednesday nights were just for us girls. 
Momma would be there to meet us at the door when the school bus dropped us off from school. Then we'd hurry excitedly and finish our chores because it was Wednesday, and we knew what Wednesday meant. After quick chores (and an after-school snack, of course) our Wednesday would begin.
In cold weather, we'd climb into Momma's car and cruise around town spotting Christmas lights or singing loudly to the radio. In nice weather, we'd take the long way downtown, towards Shining Lake Michigan, to play at the park on the little makeshift beach while Momma watched on and laughed that soft, tender laugh she still laughs with me today. Then we'd pile back in the car and drive to Pizza Hut which may as well have been Disney World- we loved it that much. We'd order our deep dish sausage pizza and breadsticks and tell stories about the boy at school who fell asleep during math today, and the girl who wore the same shirt as Meah without them even planning it, and didn't Momma think my hair would look better if I got it cut like just like hers and what, oh what movies would we rent tonight and could I please have a Kit-Kat AND a Reese's Peanut Butter cup because I got an A on my spelling test? And Momma would smile and laugh and nod "yes" or shake "no" and look at her girls the same way I look at my tiny ones now. And we loved our girl time and we loved our Momma.
Then after we'd stuffed ourselves full of pizza and bread we'd go to the movie store and pick out two movies, because Wednesdays meant getting to stay up just a bit later. Then we'd trek on home and Meah'd pop popcorn and I'd gather blankets and our great big pillow. And we'd smooth blankets flat on the living room floor, one on top of the other making a cushy movie palette and Meah and I would sit with our popcorn and our only one piece of candy (because A's on spelling tests don't mean excess candy) and Momma'd sit behind us on the couch- a Momma bird over her brood- and we'd watch our movies and eat our treats and Wednesdays meant something special. 
Then, after the candy, after the popcorn, after the movies and all the talking and fun, Momma'd tuck her baby birds into bed with kisses and hugs and that same, tender smile. And we loved our Wednesdays and we loved our Momma. And in the quietness of the room we shared, with tired eyes and happy hearts, Meah and I would discuss our favorite parts of the movies and what we'd want to see next week and how much we loved what Wednesdays meant.