A to Z Challenge: Day 13 - M

Memories of Moments by Andrea Vermaak

I have a small magnetic white board on the side of my fridge. When I first moved into my own place, I wrote, 

“The small, seemingly meaningless moments make the most extraordinary memories.” 

This quote (my own) is still there on that tiny white board because it’s so true in my life.

I’ve had the privilege of meeting many people and travelling a bit, but it’s not visiting Edinburgh Castle or London Tower, or meeting Just Jinger or The Parlotones that stand out in my mind as some of my fondest memories, nor could I say that they lie hidden in my heart as something sacred.

Edinburgh Royal Mile - photo by Andrea

Some of my fondest memories are those from my university days when we’d sit on the grass outside of the Humanities building. We’d “invent” coding for a virus that would ruin students’ assignments when they printed them from a Word document and laugh at our own ridiculousness. We’d come up with theories about why there were so many random mounds on campus. We’d almost believe that there really were invisible trees that we keep on walking into, which would explain any previously inexplicable headaches.

I will never forget how utterly happy I felt on the way back from an all-day rock show with my friends. The stadium’s catering plan fell short, so we were all parched, starving and exhausted. But I was lying in the backseat of a best friend’s mini on our way to Uncle Fouzi’s in Hatfield for a midnight feast and I couldn’t have been happier. I could lie and say that I was happy because the day was rather epic despite adequate sustenance, but honestly, I was happy because I was with two of my great friends, whom I love dearly, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else in the world at that moment.

One memory I hold very closely to my heart is indeed one of when I was on a working-holiday in Edinburgh, but it almost definitely is not what you’d expect. A small group of us who were temporarily staying in a backpackers’ hostel decided to go out one evening. It was close to sunset. I can’t for the life of me remember where we were going, but I remember that we decided to walk down one of the many narrow closes that run off of The Royal Mile. Once we reached the end of the close, we suddenly stopped. No one said anything. We just stood side by side and watched as the last rays of the sun touched the buildings of New Town far below us. No photograph could ever capture the golden colours and quiet reverence of that moment. You could only feel it. You had to be there.

Photo by Andrea

You cannot possibly recreate any of these moments without losing something fundamental in the very fabric of their existence. They may seem frivolous and worthy of forgetting to most, but they seem to cling to my heart and mind. That is why the quote on the Winnie the Pooh magnet on my very same fridge rings true to me regarding the seemingly insignificant moments: “Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”