As I have grown older and I am now embarking on a new decade, I find myself looking back. I am fondly reliving the things I did, wondering at the choices I made and remembering the incredible things I have seen. I have had a good life. But here’s the thing: why am I looking back? It’s fun to reminisce but I should be looking forward and planning the next adventure. I should, but I don’t.
Now granted, due to my recent illness there are changes in my life that I’m having to get used to. And yes, that will probably take time. I’m not old! I’m older. I’m older than I was and not as old as I will be. At least that’s my story and I’m sticking to it!
I do find that when people reach a certain age (and that age changes individually) they seem to spend far more time in the past then they do in the future. I don’t want to be one of those people. I don’t want to get so lost in the joys and successes of my past that I miss out on making any new ones. That is so sad. I know individuals in their 70s, 80s and even the 90s who are making plans, enjoying life. They are actually living their life. They are not sitting on their proverbial laurels and wallowing in the past, they are making new memories! I admire that and I can’t figure out why I’m not doing it!
At this point I have to make a confession: I am not a patient person. Oh, I love to sit quietly and read a book from cover to cover but when I do . . . do not interrupt! I find it difficult to watch a movie, unless it is incredibly engrossing, without doing something else at the same time. I expected to be able to do exactly what I was doing before I went into hospital. I’m also little thick. (I do hate the word stupid but sometimes I do a really good imitation)
My reality has changed. I’m not as strong as I was. I require more care, more assistance. So changes have to be made. I can do that. Trouble is coordinating everybody else. I do have plans in my head I can’t quite get everyone else to see. But it is good. I just need to be patient.
And I really do need to stop remembering that idyllic weekend in northern Ontario sitting on a rock overlooking the lake. He was 6 foot two, curly blond hair, broad-shoulders, hands that . . . Good girls don’t kiss and tell!
I may not live in my memories but they are a comforting place to visit.
Moments are the reasons we count the minutes.
Memories are a wonderful way to edit the past.
Sometimes it is the silly little memories that we cherish most.
It has been a very busy week and I don’t have a post ready for Sunday so I hope you don’t mind this Blast From My Past . . .
I originally posted this in September 2013. I hope you enjoy it.
Oops, my straitjacket is slipping…
When you look up at the stars at night do you feel homesick? Okay, okay, bad joke. Do you know once upon a time I laughed uproariously at that joke. I ran around and told all my preteen friends. Yes, it’s that old. And so am I.
As we age our funny bone seems to migrate. For some people it ends up around the nether regions. For others humour becomes more cerebral. I don’t know the equation to what’s funny. I don’t even know what makes me laugh until I am actually laughing. When was the last time you laughed so hard there were tears running down your face? Do you remember the knee slapping, rib tickling, gut wrenching guffaws you used to hear when a group of people got together to watch a comedy film? I don’t, at least not recently. The last time I had one of those all-encompassing, falling on the floor cackles was watching an old movie.
The movie was ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’. I don’t remember the movie. I don’t even know if it was actually a comedy. What I do remember is my boyfriend and I beating on the furniture. We were laughing so hard we were crying. I remember him falling on the floor and not able to catch his breath. But I don’t remember the movie. I remember that there was a series but it appeared to be about teenage angst (and vampire slaying) I wasn’t interested. I had enough of that when I was a teenager! (The angst not the slaying!) Don’t get me wrong I enjoy comedy. I’ve been known to crack a smile and even show teeth. I just haven’t had a really good belly laugh in a very long time.
Laughter is a universal language. It crosses borders and brings people together. It can also alienate people and cause others to commit various forms of harm. Of course that in itself can be funny! But I digress. I don’t know of any culture that doesn’t have some form of laughter. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could laugh more and shoot less? We spend so much of our time behaving according to the narrow dictates of societal decorum that when we let loose it can be epic! Find the time to laugh. A really good guffaw exercises the whole body!
Another Blast from my Past. It made me smile when I reread it. I hope it makes you smile and remember fondly those in your past.
When I was a child the world was my oyster and I was always shucking for pearls. I had a wonderful childhood. Unfortunately I have noticed that some of my memories are starting to fade. That is a very sad thing. But you have to understand not everything I did as a child or youth deserves to be remembered. Trust me there are quite a few things I would prefer to forget. I would if I could but I can’t so I won’t.
We have reached that time of year when we celebrate our parents. (Something we should do every day kids!) I find that I’m forgetting things. I forget the way it felt when my father used to pick me up when I fell asleep in the car. I was a small child and I would inevitably snooze in the back seat. I would be half awake when he picked me up and I can remember nuzzling against his chin. He smelled so safe, so warm. But I can’t remember how his arms felt. It was more than 50 years ago and we are not computers. Some things will fade.
As I was growing up my mother always made me my favourite meal on my birthday. It was seafood crepes with a pecan pie for dessert. I’ve forgotten what the crepes tasted like. I’ve had other crepes since but I haven’t had hers in probably 25 or 30 years. Probably haven’t thought about them in that amount of time either.
But on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day I remember. I remember them every day. And I miss them. We all have had people in our lives that we miss when they are gone. I believe that my mother is sitting on my shoulder with a grin on her face saying: “tsk tsk tsk, do you really want that second cookie?” I can see my father out of the corner of my eye: hands in his pockets, wearing a knit vest, smiling and shaking his head “damn kids”. We were loved. I have not stopped loving my parents since I lost them. And I haven’t really lost them as they are a part of me. They made me, they helped me become the person I am today. Thanks Mom, thanks Dad. I love you.
The past never goes away.
Immortality exists in the memory of others.
Our cameras remember for us.