Forgetting the Kardashians…

Forgetting the Kardashians... by Keri Kettle

In the car on the way home from the airport, my teenage daughter is hungrily catching up on the internet after having limited access during our vacation.  She says, “Mom, did you hear who Caitlyn Jenner is hanging out with now?”  I am groggy, sleep-deprived and craving the comforts of my own bed.  I answer, “Who is Caitlyn Jenner?”.  She is astounded by my ignorance, wondering aloud how I could be SO OLD and ignorant of celebrity culture.  “Wait! It’s coming back to me – this has something to do with the Kardashians, right?” I call out, feeling triumphant at pulling out that pop culture nugget from the depths of my aging brain.

I am immediately grateful that my mind, when given a break from social media and magazine covers in the aisle at the grocery store, chooses to let go of information I don’t need to know about the Kardashian family tree.  In that moment, I remember why it is so important to give ourselves a break from the onslaught of our FaceBook feeds, Twitter trends and blaring televisions.

I once heard that our memories are like a giant file cabinet and they fill up as we grow older.  Once they are full to the brim, new information needs a place in the cabinet and old, unused files get tossed out.  If this is true, I want to be careful about what I let get filed there.

There are things I want to remember and, no offense to Caitlyn Jenner (I’m sincerely happy for her now that I have figured out who she is), I just don’t want the news of her latest fashion choices to cause my old memories to be tossed on the floor.

I want to toss the Kardashians, the Duggars and Donald Trump out of my memory file cabinet.

There are things I want to remember.

I want to remember the way my daughter stopped to talk to the ants as they crawled up the big oak tree when she was a toddler.  The tree was at the end of the block and walking all the way there without being carried was still an accomplishment.  She would mimic my words of encouragement to the ants as they marched up the tree, telling them they were doing a good job and that they had almost made it.

I want to remember the sound of my son’s giggle, high pitched and spilling over itself as he laughed at his own jokes. I want to remember the time he told 62 Chuck Norris jokes in a row as we drove (he counted), even though living through that was not as enjoyable as the memory of a carload of boys laughing themselves to the point of tears.

I want to remember the way my husband looked at me on the very first day we met, like he had found a treasure.  I want to remember how I crooked my finger at him with the “come here” gesture because it all felt so sweet, intimate and right from that very first moment.

What we give space to in our brains is the soundtrack for our day.

I want to fill mine with Leonard Cohen lyrics and kid giggles instead of ranting politicians and celebrity dieting tips.

I unfollow the angry and the mean so they don’t show up in my FaceBook feed.  I follow the poets and the artists and the mamas posting pictures of their beloved babies from birth to middle age.  I will click on all of your puppy, cat and chicken videos but I will always scroll past any link to how Gwyneth keeps her bikini body.

At the end of the day, I will walk past the television and sit outside on the patio with my treasure of a husband to sip wine and tickle the dogs back with our toes, while we watch the hummingbirds battle.

There are things I want to remember.

Please share your thoughts.

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