It happens frequently in life. A song, a smell, a sound, or a visual trigger will walk your mind back to a memory that you've tucked away. This happened to me today during the hymn-singing at the Hill House Assisted Living facility. We were singing through the book and came to the hymn Higher Ground. In an instant, I was 11 years old again, and it was summer in Eastport. I was at an evening service in the downstairs of Washington St. Baptist Church. I was standing in the second row from the back, with familiar people and voices surrounding me, each one singing this song. Most memories relate to important events or strong emotions but this one has always intrigued me because it involves neither. It's just a day in my wonderful childhood.
Back in the present, Jim and I have been watching the Tour de France for the past couple weeks. I've enjoyed learning more about the sport of cycling. Jim has the answer to all my many questions about the subject. He rode competetively on the amateur level in his younger years and was actually quite good. His mum took many of his race banners and put them together as a wall hanging a few years ago. I didn't understand how long, technical and strategic this race is. Today was stage 17, the last of the high hill climbs of the Alps. The endurance of these althletes is amazing. My half hour struggle on the elliptical was quite pathetic in contrast, but we all have our hills to climb.
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