My wife is not from my hometown, although most assuredly my home is with her and was made complete by her presence. What I'm saying is we did not grow up in the same geographic location, no where near each other in fact. Different states entirely. And we didn't meet until we were both in our twenties, which brings a grin to to my face remembering how " old " we both thought we were at that time. Grownups out in the world. Yes, that is a fond memory.
In all the years we have been together she has never traveled to my hometown. She hears about it, incessantly. I have always talked about it and told her the many stories I have of growing up in " eden. " I do tend to describe it in that way. I grew up there in the nineteen sixties and it was a wonderful place to be. We had that backwoods charm and access to the city. There were those that made their living off the land and those that made a living off the city folks ! A boy could run free, free range parenting was all the rage, although we didn't call it that. What is was was being responsible. Mom told you when to be home and you were. As far as your behavior, you knew right from wrong and it was your responsibility to exercise good judgement.
Now all of this are my memories. From all I hear that hometown does not exist any longer, at least not as I knew it. That too, is just a memory of days gone by. It is not surprising , all things change over time. There are those of us, myself included, that strive to remain the same. I am resistant to change. There are those that claim that is a bad thing but I say, not so fast, tried and true is best. The only thing is you do have to " try " it. I tried enough stuff in my past, think I'll leave that to the younger crowd. But I'm getting off track here. My main point is, I'm in love with a memory.
I'm wondering if there comes a time when you have to put old memories on the shelf, like pictures on the wall, to be admired and talked about and shared. But, what level of attachment should we assign to them ? Are they objects to be admired or objects to be loved. I think the difference lies in being possessive and obsessive. Similar in nature but different in practice. Have I become obsessed with the past ? Not in my minds' eye I haven't. Still others may perceive that differently. I could list the reasons that I feel that way but that would be rationalization. When you begin doing that it sometimes indicates a problem is present. I don't see the problem.
Does there come a point when you should just say no more ? It is understandable that others would get tired of hearing the same old thing, especially so when they do not share that memory. It is a bit painful to admit that. It is a difficult thing to write about and address without sounding like I am fishing for sympathy or understanding. That is not my intention here. I keep those memories alive, perhaps resuscitating them a bit too often. Is it time to just let them rest, take their place in history ? I can't do that because they are my history. I'm not ready to " rest. " It will remain one of those things between husband and wife. Drives her crazy at times, I get it, but it is a part of me. I can only hope it is one of those " endearing " qualities you read about. Yes, I think I'll go with that. One of those things that wives complain about but really wouldn't want to change. I'm good.
In all the years we have been together she has never traveled to my hometown. She hears about it, incessantly. I have always talked about it and told her the many stories I have of growing up in " eden. " I do tend to describe it in that way. I grew up there in the nineteen sixties and it was a wonderful place to be. We had that backwoods charm and access to the city. There were those that made their living off the land and those that made a living off the city folks ! A boy could run free, free range parenting was all the rage, although we didn't call it that. What is was was being responsible. Mom told you when to be home and you were. As far as your behavior, you knew right from wrong and it was your responsibility to exercise good judgement.
Now all of this are my memories. From all I hear that hometown does not exist any longer, at least not as I knew it. That too, is just a memory of days gone by. It is not surprising , all things change over time. There are those of us, myself included, that strive to remain the same. I am resistant to change. There are those that claim that is a bad thing but I say, not so fast, tried and true is best. The only thing is you do have to " try " it. I tried enough stuff in my past, think I'll leave that to the younger crowd. But I'm getting off track here. My main point is, I'm in love with a memory.
I'm wondering if there comes a time when you have to put old memories on the shelf, like pictures on the wall, to be admired and talked about and shared. But, what level of attachment should we assign to them ? Are they objects to be admired or objects to be loved. I think the difference lies in being possessive and obsessive. Similar in nature but different in practice. Have I become obsessed with the past ? Not in my minds' eye I haven't. Still others may perceive that differently. I could list the reasons that I feel that way but that would be rationalization. When you begin doing that it sometimes indicates a problem is present. I don't see the problem.
Does there come a point when you should just say no more ? It is understandable that others would get tired of hearing the same old thing, especially so when they do not share that memory. It is a bit painful to admit that. It is a difficult thing to write about and address without sounding like I am fishing for sympathy or understanding. That is not my intention here. I keep those memories alive, perhaps resuscitating them a bit too often. Is it time to just let them rest, take their place in history ? I can't do that because they are my history. I'm not ready to " rest. " It will remain one of those things between husband and wife. Drives her crazy at times, I get it, but it is a part of me. I can only hope it is one of those " endearing " qualities you read about. Yes, I think I'll go with that. One of those things that wives complain about but really wouldn't want to change. I'm good.
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