Lilacs

Lilacs trigger two memories for me. The first one is actually one of my first memories ever. It involves having to ask Mom to take me outside to see and smell the lilac bush at our first house. There's a picture of her holding me up so I can put my nose up to the flower. I must have been three or four. I'm not sure if the picture is from that first memory, though. It's the same lilac bush, but this "first" memory seems fuzzier than a photograph. It's like trying to recall a dream. My other first group of memories are from a trip to Disney World when I was two. I have a vague memory of riding the Dumbo ride with my friend and her young Aunt and hugging Frankenstein (I was a big hugger as a child). Actually, I also remember sitting on Miss America's lap. That probably sounds weird, but we were at Disney World for me to compete in "Baby Miss USA." I'd won a free trip for my family and me so I could participate in the pageant and go to Disney World. All of this and a nice savings bond were the results of being crowned "Baby Miss Michigan." Leslie likes to tell people at the bar that I was "Baby Miss Michigan." It's a funny conversation starter, but it's strange telling people I "peaked" at the age of two. This toddler pageant allowed each of the fifty contestants to meet Miss America. I don't remember much about her. I remember she signed a picture for me and gave me a hug.

I don't talk much about my pageant days. My therapist brings them up a lot, so I've gotten more comfortable talking about them. It's really weird for me to remember, though. Child pageants are such a strange culture.

The second memory about lilacs is when Laura brought me some lilac branches she broke off of a bush near the hospital when I was in the psych unit. The bright purple and beautiful scent brightened my room up a bit. I kept them in there the whole time I was in there, even after they died. It's interesting that one memory involves being held to smell lilacs and the other, being hospitalized, is like a return to the days of being held.

I just read Ashley Judd's book, and she talked about how her time receiving in-patient treatment for depression allowed her to be babied and taken care of like she never was as a child. I don't want to go into many details about how that relates to me, but I certainly agree that my hospital experience provided a safe place for me to be held up a little closer to the flowers in my life. My days in the hospital are just as influential in who I am today as my childhood days. I can't deny either experiences because they shaped me. I like that both memories about lilacs and spring are so similar, yet nearly 20 years a part in my short life. Lilacs also trigger my allergies, which also says something on a psychoanalytical level since I love them so much.