After writing yesterdays posting there was some discussion. That is a good thing. I do hope that anyone reading my postings thinks about what I am trying to say. I don't seem to have the ability to be direct about things but rather I approach my thoughts obtusely. Sometimes it is almost as though I were sneaking up on them. I know I am often surprised by the end result. I did read somewhere that if you want to know what you believe, write. I can see the truth in that statement. My biggest problem is reaching a conclusion. Well at least a conclusion I am firm with. My thoughts are subject to change, although there are those that will tell you otherwise.
Now reading the comments that were so generously offered by those that read my post I saw a trend developing. Many thought I was drawing the wrong conclusion and should change my decision. The decision I had arrived at? That I would probably never visit my hometown again. Many thought I should plan a visit , take my wife there and show her the places I had grown up. To share my memories. But it is my thinking that you can't share memories, only tell stories. As I said several times, I believe memories are always in the first person, everything else are just stories. And in keeping with that sentiment I would add, you can't share the past, for the past is gone. The places, people, and atmosphere that was my hometown are long since gone. At least the way I remember them they are. To attempt to share that would be to change that memory. And that is at the crux of my thoughts regarding all of that. I'm thinking it would be best to not disturb a memory, just leave it the way, well, I remember it!
My wife has never been there. For her to go there would be like a tourist visiting a roadside attraction. To her, it is just a place. Yes, it is a place she has heard me speak of often, probably too often. Still she has no memories stored there. She did see a picture of the lighthouse at Montauk and remark, I'd like to see that. That was the attraction. She knows it was my home and it may please me to go there, so there is that. I would be happy to go and see any place that she wanted to show me from her childhood, to enjoy that attraction with her. Would those places hold any special meaning to me? The answer is no, they would not, although I can appreciate the beauty or whatever of those places. Would those places be just as she remembered them? Probably not, there are always changes. The real attraction to those places reside in the memory of those that where there. That's my point. The things I see would not be what she sees, even though we are both looking at the same object. Where she sees a windmill, I see many little scenes that took place by that mill. I see Sarah, a girl I went to school with standing in the doorway. She had a summer job there. Then I think of Sarah, my great grandmother who lies buried in the shadow of that mill. I remember seeing that mill lighted for Christmas and I remember hiding behind it on Halloween. There are memories connected to that mill, to my wife her only memory " will " be, I saw that mill. That is what I'm thinking about, that is why my decision.
When I was just 14 my great grandfather passed away. This was the first family member I had lost. The family gathered to attend the funeral. I had never been to one of these solemn occasions. We entered the funeral home, with that sad music playing in the background somewhere. There front and center sat a steel gray coffin covered with a white cloth and a few sprigs of flowers. I approached that casket and looked inside to see great grandfather, lying there, eyes closed and looking, well, dead. Regardless of what others were saying, he didn't look good! I turned and left the building, the sorrow, the grief too great to bear at the moment. And that, that is my last remembrance of him. That memory has stayed with me for the last fifty one years, I expect it will remain forever. It is the last I remember.
Perhaps some psychologists or other mental health professionals would tell me that is why I feel the way I do today. Yeah, okay, if you say so. I don't require an explanation to know how I feel. I only need to deal with those feelings. For me, I wish now I hadn't gone to that funerals at all. I didn't go for me, I didn't go for Gramp, I went because it was expected of me. Things didn't go as expected, for me or others. All that happened was a memory was formed, one that took the place of all the good ones concerning Gramp. True I can remember all those good times but they were displaced. Displaced for what? And that, that is why I'm thinking I will not visit those places again. I would like my memories to stay the same. When I say, the last I remember, it will be the last I remember. Does that make sense to you? I have no desire to be a tour guide to the past. Fact is, if I were to go there I would just as much a tourist as my wife! That town, that life, that place has had its' time. I'll be content with, " the last I remember. "
Now reading the comments that were so generously offered by those that read my post I saw a trend developing. Many thought I was drawing the wrong conclusion and should change my decision. The decision I had arrived at? That I would probably never visit my hometown again. Many thought I should plan a visit , take my wife there and show her the places I had grown up. To share my memories. But it is my thinking that you can't share memories, only tell stories. As I said several times, I believe memories are always in the first person, everything else are just stories. And in keeping with that sentiment I would add, you can't share the past, for the past is gone. The places, people, and atmosphere that was my hometown are long since gone. At least the way I remember them they are. To attempt to share that would be to change that memory. And that is at the crux of my thoughts regarding all of that. I'm thinking it would be best to not disturb a memory, just leave it the way, well, I remember it!
My wife has never been there. For her to go there would be like a tourist visiting a roadside attraction. To her, it is just a place. Yes, it is a place she has heard me speak of often, probably too often. Still she has no memories stored there. She did see a picture of the lighthouse at Montauk and remark, I'd like to see that. That was the attraction. She knows it was my home and it may please me to go there, so there is that. I would be happy to go and see any place that she wanted to show me from her childhood, to enjoy that attraction with her. Would those places hold any special meaning to me? The answer is no, they would not, although I can appreciate the beauty or whatever of those places. Would those places be just as she remembered them? Probably not, there are always changes. The real attraction to those places reside in the memory of those that where there. That's my point. The things I see would not be what she sees, even though we are both looking at the same object. Where she sees a windmill, I see many little scenes that took place by that mill. I see Sarah, a girl I went to school with standing in the doorway. She had a summer job there. Then I think of Sarah, my great grandmother who lies buried in the shadow of that mill. I remember seeing that mill lighted for Christmas and I remember hiding behind it on Halloween. There are memories connected to that mill, to my wife her only memory " will " be, I saw that mill. That is what I'm thinking about, that is why my decision.
When I was just 14 my great grandfather passed away. This was the first family member I had lost. The family gathered to attend the funeral. I had never been to one of these solemn occasions. We entered the funeral home, with that sad music playing in the background somewhere. There front and center sat a steel gray coffin covered with a white cloth and a few sprigs of flowers. I approached that casket and looked inside to see great grandfather, lying there, eyes closed and looking, well, dead. Regardless of what others were saying, he didn't look good! I turned and left the building, the sorrow, the grief too great to bear at the moment. And that, that is my last remembrance of him. That memory has stayed with me for the last fifty one years, I expect it will remain forever. It is the last I remember.
Perhaps some psychologists or other mental health professionals would tell me that is why I feel the way I do today. Yeah, okay, if you say so. I don't require an explanation to know how I feel. I only need to deal with those feelings. For me, I wish now I hadn't gone to that funerals at all. I didn't go for me, I didn't go for Gramp, I went because it was expected of me. Things didn't go as expected, for me or others. All that happened was a memory was formed, one that took the place of all the good ones concerning Gramp. True I can remember all those good times but they were displaced. Displaced for what? And that, that is why I'm thinking I will not visit those places again. I would like my memories to stay the same. When I say, the last I remember, it will be the last I remember. Does that make sense to you? I have no desire to be a tour guide to the past. Fact is, if I were to go there I would just as much a tourist as my wife! That town, that life, that place has had its' time. I'll be content with, " the last I remember. "
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