Sunday, February 16, 2020

a decade of memories

 After writing about discovering I was actually born in the 1900's, a fact that just didn't dawn on me until I saw it in writing, I began to think more about the past. Now I was born in '53, yes 1953, we do need to be specific don't we, but I don't remember that. I'd say my earliest real memories are from 1958 or 59. For me, that is the beginning of my childhood. I was eighteen in 1971, the beginning of adulthood. At least that is supposed to be the beginning, the government says so when it comes to military service, not so much if I choose to buy cigarettes or vaping products. Ah, but that's another issue altogether. But as I thought about that it occurred to me that my childhood memories cover just about a decade. Yeah, it's a little more, but not enough to notice. I'm a product of the 1960's. That's correct, that's my decade. So I think it is a fair statement to say that my childhood memories cover a span of about ten years. Childhood memories to last a lifetime. It's that way for all of us, more or less.
 Now the amount of that time, that influence , we carry forward will vary with everyone. Perhaps it has something to do with our perceived successes and failures. I wouldn't know about that, I'll have to leave that to a sociologist or psychiatrist. I can speak for myself though. I have carried many of the lessons I was taught with me to this day. I'm aware of that, most of the time. I'm always aware that what goes around comes around, and I'm certain it will come around again, those same lessons I mean. Yes even when I'm told that I'm outdated, old fashioned, or just not intelligent. I cling to the lessons I learned all those years ago. Of course I was on the outside even in the sixties, not agreeing with the " popular " view all the time. I wasn't a stoner, didn't drive a VW mini-van didn't attend Woodstock and say far out man! No, I was a bit more conservative even then. No long hair, no faded jeans, leather vests or headbands. I didn't even wear bell bottoms. I did listen to some rock and roll, some blues, and some Motown. Not a big fan of the Beatles and their trippy music about yellow submarines or Lucy in the sky, with diamonds. I was a very poor rebel. Mostly I was just poor but didn't know it. I had a place to live, food to eat, most of the toys I wanted, and was content.
 I am grateful for all of that. As I said ten years of childhood to last a lifetime. I'm grateful that mine are all good. The truth is we forget about the bad if we learned to appreciate what we have. The thing about childhood memories are they belong solely to us. No one can tell us different, no one can question them. If that is what we remember, that is what was. It's a certainty. In this world few things are certain. I can get lost in those memories at times but always come out smiling. Yes I'm grateful for a childhood like that. A decade of memories. A decade of growth that has served me well throughout the years. A solid foundation. That was the gift I was given. Whenever life gets me down I can return there and be refreshed. Lots of wonderful people live there, in my memory. I can hear their voices, hear the laughter and see their smiles. They give me advice, encouragement, and sometimes, sometimes they just listen. 

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