Just Me

Just Me
Look,I'm just sayin'

Monday, October 3, 2016

time goes on

 Isn't it strange how we remember our childhood friends just the way they were ? In this modern day world of social media we can see photos of them and read about their lives but the vision persists. I began to think about that yesterday after having a short conversation with just such a friend. I responded with the thought, just look at us, talking like adults ! Today is her birthday and she turns sixty. I remember her as a little sister to another friend. Being three years younger than I, I paid little attention to her back then. But time marches on as they say and that gap has closed. It became evident as we discussed our Moms. We sounded like parents, as we talked about our parents ! It was that that prompted my comment. We were talking like adults. With a sigh I realized we had both grown up and accepted that with a tinge of sadness. I wondered why that should be.
 I'm thinking maybe we view the past as still alive. At least that part that has not been proven otherwise. Does that make any sense to you ? We do remember things as they used to be that can't be denied. I just wonder why it takes so long for us to change that view ? Why the necessity for empirical evidence ? Common sense and logic just doesn't cut it. When I had that conversation yesterday it became clear, she had grown up. All at once our childhood seemed so far away. It had taken place in a different time. I was confronted with the obvious. No longer will I see that little sister, she is now a memory. Memory is associated with nostalgia. Nostalgia deals with a longing, a longing for the past and bygone time. Another fragment of the past has been lost. Is that aging ?
 What is better, a raging fire or a bed of hot coals ? That depends upon the purpose of the fire does it not ? Perhaps our memories are the same. They begin as a spark, burst into flame and eventually become smoldering embers. Sure you can fan the fire every now and again and the flames appear, but over time the fuel is exhausted. The embers produce the most heat, although less dramatic. Is that why it is said we are warmed by our memories ? Those moments of the past are the fuel for today. Every now and again we realize the supply is being consumed and that is what we call sadness. It is something that can not be recovered. I think we should just enjoy the warmth.
 For some strange reason I was left in a pensive mood yesterday following that conversation. Was it the fact that my childhood friend, that little sister, was telling me of her Mom ? Her Mom, a lady I remember well as a " grown up " is now suffering from Alzheimer's. She is caring for her at home, she is being the parent now. In recent weeks I have had to talk with my own mother and be " firm " with her. She is now 87 and being stubborn, for lack of a better description. I have had to act like an adult for her ! It could be because my conversation began with me asking her where her father was buried. Her father was my fathers' best friend and they have both been gone for a long time now. So much time and so much change. And times goes on.