Every moment is a singularity; each moment is a life unto itself; there is just the moment.
We all have particular moments in our lives that we continue to remember decade after decade.
Here’s one of mine that has continued popping up for six decades.
I was six years old, and during the summer of that year, there was a competition at the neighborhood park on decorating your bike for the July 4 parade originating at city hall in Huntington Park, California.
I didn’t have a bike so my step father (of less than a year) made a wooden box scooter on roller skates and decorated it with streams of red, white and blue crape paper adorned with small little American flags. He topped it off by giving me his sailor’s hat to wear.
He dropped me and the scooter off at the park the day of the competition.
By the end of the competition that day, awards had been handed out and I hadn’t received any. So, I went up to the park shack and asked Gladys, the park supervisor, if I won anything. She pulled out a green ribbon that said “special award”.
At day’s end I led the parade from city hall back to the park. It covered less than one hundred yards; and the fact that it was on the grass made it hard to push my box scooter. The skates kept sinking into the sod.
The other kids, all older than me, had received blue, red and and yellows ribbons that said first, second and third on them. I was the only one who received a green ribbon, because my scooter was special. I still have that ribbon.
It’s only been recently I have asked if that special ribbon was given to me, not because my scooter was really special, but because the park supervisors wanted to ensure I felt involved. Maybe?
No matter, If all we have are moments with which to build our lives, I feel good about my life, in part, because I felt special that day my box scooter received a special award.
Remember, our lives are made up of a series moments we continue to remember. They determine what we think of ourselves, no matter how old we become.