Memory, all alone in the moonlight...

I was talking with some friends earlier, and we were discussing how weird it is what your mind is capable of remembering over time. So I got to thinking about those moments... you know the ones... those moments in life where time stands still. Moments where everything is moving in slow motion. Moments both big and seemingly small, that you know you are not likely to ever forget. So I started thinking back and taking account of the few dozen moments that stand-out to me. Granted, I am a nerd, but I found it interesting... you should try it...

-I’m 11, sitting in the back row grading reading workbooks with my 5th grade class. We are anxiously waiting to go downtown for a field trip to the Symphony. Patrick is to my left, we are discussing Sketchers. Suddenly there is this loud, yet muffled “boom” followed by a similar, yet softer “booming” noise. We all look up. Patrick proclaims that it’s Jurassic Park. The smarter boys say it was a sonic boom. An hour later our teacher informs us that there will be no fieldtrip, since someone blew up the federal building downtown.

-I’m 16. We’re dancing on my grandparents driveway in the middle of the night to music that flows out of the sunroof of his car. Months later, my driveway... he whispers I love you in the dark. A year later, his driveway... he gets out of the car and says goodbye. We never speak again.

-I’m a junior, and I’m afraid to open the mailbox. I look inside to find the letter I’m afraid of. I open it up. I’m jumping up and down. I call my parents, and they cry. 3rd times a charm. It’s going to be an interesting summer.

-I’m, 17 and I’m bored to death during “Patriot Time.” Suddenly the school goes on lockdown. There is talk of something happening in New York. We turn on the TV just in time to see the towers fall down.

-It’s after midnight. I just got off work. I’ve never been so angry. I’m screaming at him in the back of the parking lot.

-It’s January of my senior year and I’m driving around the lake waiting. Surely this time it’s my turn. The list goes up, I wait till everyone leaves. But it is not my turn. Monday morning the music teachers take me into the hall and tell me that it should have been me, but there was nothing they could do.

-It’s 2 months to graduation and I’m afriad to open the mailbox again. With 2 rejections letters in hand I go outside to find that my back-up school was no longer an option either. What am I going to do?

-We’re driving home from Gulf Shores discussing our friend and his front page appearance on the sports page as Oklahoma’s High School Baseball MVP... the very next day he makes the papers again due to a semi losing a tire that hit his car and killed him instantly. I work his funeral. I deliver flowers to his house from the funeral home. I stand in his room. There are lots of baseballs, and I remember kindergarten and him as a 5 year old, sitting on the rug describing his birthday and his presents.

-I’m 19. It is May. A month earlier, on a whim, I stood in front of a mail box in san diego and mailed a subpar audition tape to a college over 2,000 miles away. Now I am in OK sitting in my mom’s office preparing to leave the country for the summer. I go to check my e-mail, only to find that the next 3 years are not going to be what I expected.

-I'm in Germany. The sisters are crying while they sing. It's beautiful.

-It's our last Sunday in Europe. We are on the platform singing "Great is Thy Faithfulness" and there is Dieter. In the pews, looking back at us.

-It’s fall. I am new. Everything and everyone is new, and I am sitting with a stranger eating frosties and fries on top of the parking garage at 2am.

-I’m 19 and I’m in Hartford. It’s late at night. A man with green eyes named Richard Handy is screaming at me. He had a house and two cars. He is homeless now.

-I’m 20. It’s very late. It’s snowing and everything is very quiet. I feel that something magical is happening, but I’m crying out in the street outside my apartment anyway.

-It’s spring break. My mom is giving me a hug in my kitchen. I’m beginning to wonder if I will always feel lonely.

-I’m 21 and half a world away. I’m laying in bed staring at the bunk above me. I’m bruised. There are needles in my hands. I’m afriad my family will hate me, because I don’t think I’ll be coming home.

-I’m 21 and I’m sitting at F. Monkey. They want to take us to the G8 summit. A week later I’m talking to reporters and cameras in the park. Another week finds me in the 3rd row at Live8, and out in Edinburgh jumping up and down to The Proclaimers.

-I’m 21. It’s 2am and I’m crying on the phone. He’s apologizing. He’s saying he loves me so much. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. I don’t go to sleep, I go outside and walk for 3 hours. I forgive him.

-2 weeks later, I’m sitting on his bed. Legs outstreched. Holes in my jeans. He won’t look at me. He says he wants to be better for me, and that’s the point. I have a thousand thoughts but no words. I leave the room, walk downstairs and leave. He never moves.

-It’s late and we’re bored. We walk down the street and sit on the porch of what will one day be my new house. We walk across the street. We run through the sprinklers on the soccer field.

-I’m 21 and I’m leaving the airport to drive home for christmas. I have mail to read but I’m afraid. I’m singing to Patty Griffin and I’m crying. I pray out loud all the way to Memphis. I wonder if I will ever trust anyone. I stop at a Shell station outside of Memphis. I read my mail, and I begin to feel like God is slowly answering my prayers.

-It’s New Years Eve. I’m in Austin out on my brothers balcony. We celebrate the new year on the phone together.

-I’m singing in seminar for the millionth time, but this time it’s my creation, not my replication of someone elses. I am happy. People are impressed, and the girl in the 3rd row says she would buy it.

-Spring break. We are all singing in the car. Then we are walking all day for days. It’s cold. Then hot. Then cold again. My legs are going to fall off. But we are all together. And everything is beautiful.

-I’m 22. The band has gone onstage and I am in the wings. I am cold. I have to pee. I’m so excited. I’m so scared. But I’m so excited!

-I’m recording in RCA B. My family is there. I’m enjoying it. I’m actually proud of something I helped create. Things seem full of promise.

-I’m standing in front of the church. I’m very nervous. The water isn’t as cold as I expected it to be. Kristin is crying. I’m very happy. He gives me a hug.

-I’m walking across the stage at graduation, trying to imagine another time in my life that was as exciting and as terrifying as this.

-I’m out west. I’m outside and there is rushing water everywhere. I am praying because deep down I know what’s coming and I can’t believe it. We suffer through lunch. I’m taking pictures. He’s in front of me, on one knee with a gray box. I ask him if he’s sure...

-We’re sitting alone by the river. We’re the only ones who know.

-We’re at the airport. He’s buying me my first wedding magazine, telling me it’s ok to be a girl and get excited. We read the “wedding tips” all the way back to nashville.

-I’m cooking breakfast. He’s loading the car. I watch from my porch as he drives away for the summer.

-There are news reports of a bad accident in Arusha. I’m crying on the phone to Josh, who’s telling me all the possible routes to Arusha. I’m afraid he’s gone.

-I’m on a plane. I’m freaking out, both excited and nervous to see him again. I enter the gate, and he comes out from around a corner. We talk non-stop in the car for 3 hours.

-We’re laying down. It’s dark. We’ve just finished LOST. He’s telling me he’s more in love with me now than ever, that he is confident, that he has never been more certain.

- I’m sitting on the steps outside his apartment. Knocking. Calling. Texting. An hour has passed. It’s cold. I’m crying. His friends peek out of their doors. He comes downstairs, headphones in. He won’t look at me. He pushes me out of the way.

-He’s taking all his stuff from my house. I’m apologizing, but I’m not sure what for. I’m begging him to talk to me. He’s demanding to know where his clothes are.

-I’ve cornered him in the office. He won’t look at me. He’s throwing my olive branch pictures in the trash.

-I’m driving home. The cat is scared. I’m crying. Kelsey is telling me that the light is red.

-I'm wearing a teal shirt. I'm sitting on the floor in a hallway with dozens of strangers. We're waiting.

- It’s 2am and I am suddenly wide awake. I am rocking back and forth. I am afraid, and I am panicking. I don’t want to choose, I don’t want to make anymore decisions but I know I will have to. A few days later they send me news. I sit there in silence. Not happy. Not sad. Just nonplussed by the fact that I was right all along.

- I’m resting on a sunday afternoon, when I realize that when it comes to “ham and eggs” and “chicken and pigs”... I am always the ham. I am always the pig. And it dawns on my how desperately I need to learn how to be the chicken.

-I’m in a room full of people. Everyone is singing but I am lip-synching. I try and hide it, but the tears stream down regardless, and I accept the fact: I will never be the chicken. I will never be the eggs. ...And maybe that’s ok.