The Memory Plane

Jill (Price) Clark, a lifelong friend of mine, visited us this weekend. It was the first time I had seen her in years, and as much as I wanted to reminisce about our wonderful childhood, I have a lousy memory sometimes. I recalled a few events -- like the time our two families went camping in Ohio and the campground flooded -- but I couldn't even remember, for instance, that all of the Glover and Price children once unknowingly played in poison oak and awoke in camp the next morning with swollen faces. How could you forget something like that!

Well, as bad as my memory is, every time I get on a plane to Guatemala, the most cherished memories of my life rush into my mind.

Today, I remembered how crazed Kimberly was when we almost did not get to make our connecting flight in El Salvador five years ago. The seats reserved for us had been taped off because of some problem, and Kimberly absolutely insisted that we would be on that flight, in someone else's seat if it came to that. They found us a seat.

As I looked across the aisle at Anthony at one point today, I thought of him cuddled in my arms on our return to the United States. He filled his diaper just as our descent to Dulles began that day, preventing us from changing his britches, but somehow that is a fond memory five years later. Thankfully, our immigration agent let us clean the boy before having to go through the process of confirming his right to enter the country!

I also remembered the long and enjoyable conversation I had with a Guatemalan man on the trip to get Elli in 2001. I can't recall what we talked about ... but I remember how much I loved talking to a man from my son's birth country about anything and everything. In a strange way, I saw him as family. I wish I had asked for his address and tried to keep in touch with him.

(More memories later. I have to go make some new ones now with the Venturas, the preacher and his wife we met five years ago when we adopted Anthony.)

Continued after a not-so-good night's sleep:

And I remembered the beauty of the towering Guatemalan mountains on our way to get Elli. We arrived late that trip, so we could see the mountains jutting into the night skyline, with the open fires of small (and presumably Mayan) villages dotting the landscape. As our plane banked to the right and passed over one line of mountains, we suddenly saw the lights of Guatemala City. We felt like we were at home -- a peacefulness very much unlike the sense of dread that followed us every time we stepped outside our hotel after adopting Anthony.

Now I will have a whole new set of memories from yet another plane trip -- seeing Anthony sitting between my parents, watching Elli nap on Mommy's lap, showing Elli that same mountainous landscape in the daylight as we neared Guatemala City yesterday. I wish I could recall more events from my childhood because I have lived a happy, blessed life. But if I never remember another thing from those days, I will cherish forever the memories of our three journeys to Guatemala over the past five years. They are seared into my mind.

And even if I do forget them, well, I'll have this blog to remind me!