Me and Holden

Hi everyone- or really, just me right now. This is the first post of a new blog. Maybe just mine, maybe mine and my SO's, we'll see. I'm not exactly sure what I want to do with it. Its more an effort to catalogue and preserve my ideas and feelings more than it is an effort to do much else. My own little Holden Caulfield, " why can't life be like a museum" sort of thing. That was always my favorite part of the book. Maybe I can find the part online. And yes, here it is, or at least part of it :

"The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where it was. Nobody'd move. You could go there a hundred thousand times, and that Eskimo would still be just finished catching those two fish, the birds would still be on their way south, the deers would still be drinking out of that water hole […]. Nobody'd be different. The only thing that would be different would be you. Not that you'd be so much older or anything. It wouldn't be that exactly. You'd just be different, that's all. You'd have an overcoat on this time. Or that kid that was your partner in line last time had got scarlet fever and you'd have a new partner. Or you'd have a substitute taking the class, instead of Miss Aigletinger. Or you'd heard your mother and father having a terrific fight in the bathroom. Or you'd just passed by one of those puddles in the street with gasoline rainbows in them. I mean you'd be different in some way – I can't explain what I mean. And even if I could, I'm not sure I'd feel like it.- J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye, Ch. 16

Its beautiful no? This desire to be able to change ourselves but to have everything around us stay exactly the same? To be able to go back to those places you loved as a child, grandparents houses, the first time you galloped on your pony on a dusky Texas evening, night coming in fast, the tall grass brushing your bare legs, summer camps, a favorite birthday, whatever your thing was as a kid ( mine was the grandparents), to relive some crazy summer, nights full of Kentucky Deluxe and Mountain Dew, to freeze the moment when a first love was just that, a new and exciting and unbroken thing, and leave it there, unchanging, to come back and visit whenever you wanted? Maybe its when your children were born or the first time a new niece or nephew smiled at you and you knew that things might still but rough,  but they were going to be okay and you would make it. Maybe its the first time you held the hand, in a dark backseat, a bit drunk perhaps,  rain sliding down the window, the lights of Austin (or any city really) warped on the falling drops, of the man that would open life up for you in a way that you had never felt or thought possible and that you'd eventually marry. The way he looked as he walked up the sidewalk at the airport nearly 24 hours after he left France on a months notice. Because thats the sort of crazy things he does and thats what makes- and will make- all the future moments with him worthwhile and wonderful. These are my moments that I would freeze in my own version of Caulfield's museum. I'm sure you'll hear more about them. But right now, I want to hear about your stories. Tell me, what beautiful moment do you wish you could have put away and kept safe and separate, to visit over and over again, whenever your heart wanted?