I began to call this a recovered memory but that sort of sets up as something that was repressed. That's not the case with this memory. It's one of those that lie in my city of thoughts in a dark, unusued building full of such memories. This week, being in bed, I wandered through the city's lesser used streets, returned to this building and found this memory, a favorite.
I was fourteen. Mom took me and two of my younger sisters to McDonald's, as a treat. I had many McDonald's favorites in those days but my preference was a couple of Filet of Fish. A square, breaded golden fish filet, McDonald's served it on a white burger bun with melted American cheese, tartar sauce and a pickle. It was a fine meal when you added a chocolate milkshake and a large order of fries, and you're fourteen and active and can eat without gaining weight.
Settling at a table, we tore into our food and drinks. While I had that milkshake, my sisters were drinking sodas. Suddenly, my youngest sister, sitting opposite, slammed her hands down on the table, threw her head back and then rocked it forward and back again. Everything shook. The noise, for a four year old, was unbelievable. Becoming still, she stared, her eyes wide and watering.
Mom was appalled. "What in God's name is wrong with you?" she asked my sister.
My sister looked around with a little surprise. "I burped."
Causes Michael Seidel Supports
Kiva, Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, Propublica.org, Doctors Without Borders, GreaterGood.com