A small comment: I don’t remember my
Mom ever driving a car or truck. She passed away when I was 11 but
she was feeling well enough to work for some of the years before
that. She was very sick towards the end of her life as she fought
cancer. But it seems odd that I have no memory of my Mom driving. I
checked with my older sister and she had the same memory. I remember
my Dad driving, my older brothers and sisters driving, even uncles
and aunts driving. But not my Mom. The speculation from my family
is that before she became housebound with her cancer that she just
didn’t necessarily like to drive.
But that confuses me, as my Dad worked
swing shift for many years. My Mom would have had errands to run.
She had small children who would need to go to doctor’s
appointment, clothes shopping, and other “Mom stuff”. Even
driving to her jobs. There was no bus service at that time in
Bountiful so she couldn’t have used public transportation.
So I am left with the question of why I
don’t remember my Mom driving. It is a little thing, but it is
something that I can’t explain. I remember her making Divinity,
homemade donuts, painting while in her wheelchair, going to church,
playing the piano and much more.
Maybe it was
something so unimportant that my mind decided that it didn’t need
to store it in my long-term memory files (which get more crowded
every day). But I had room for memories of cub scout meetings,
playing mumbly peg with pocket knives (explain that to today’s
safety conscious parents) and other very disposable memories. But
not that memory.
So I shouldn’t obsess about it. It
just feels like a small missing piece of my “Mom Memory” jigsaw
puzzle. And I wonder what my kids will remember from their childhood.
I know that they will remember the big things, but what about the
minor memories?
I guess that at my age I worry about
missing memories, no matter how small and how long ago. I guess that
I will need to keep organizing my memories files in the big file
cabinet of my mind. And just take note of what is missing.