This post comes from a weekly memoir writing prompt provided by The Red Dress Club. This week’s RemembeRED memoir prompt asked us to write a memory of sand.
My mom started her career in the latter half of her 30’s, the age that I am now. She went back to school, earned a Masters in Education, and started teaching full time. For three years I hardly saw her while she worked during the day as a full-time substitute teacher, went to school at night and spent the weekends pouring over her homework as well as classwork. I missed her.
But on Fridays she would take a break from the crazy. Back when people had VCR’s, before On Demand Television or DVR’s, she would faithfully tape her Soap Opera. My brothers and I couldn’t wait for her to decompress, shred every last bit of the week into a pile by the front door. Somehow she had an amazing ability to mentally cleanse herself from even the longest day. Friday was for vegging in front of the TV, snuggling on the sofa, while eating Lipton Onion Soup and Sour Cream dip with a bag of salty Lays Potato Chips. It didn’t matter what we were watching, just as long as we were watching it with mom. During commercials we would catch up on what boys were cute, which girls were fighting and what projects we were working on. We would speculate how Patch and Kayla would ever get back together and wonder how Hope lost so much weight. One afternoon a week there was no night school, no rush to finish homework, no chores or one single lesson plan to create. I missed her a little less.
Even now, my mouth waters, craving sour cream and onions, whenever I hear the voice of MacDonald Carey say, “Like sands through the hour-glass, so are the Days of Our Lives.”
And they were.