You can only share your memories with those that were there. Everything else is just telling stories. It’s a harsh reality, and one I have struggled with over the years. Perhaps that is what over 15 years of blogs are all about. Mostly talking to myself. Those that I knew much before 1971 are few and far between. Only one brother in my family survives and we haven’t really spoken in years. Oh, I talk with a few old classmates every now and again thanks to Facebook. That’s not the same thing though, not the same as those core memories, the memories that formed who you are.

We should learn from our past, learn from history. When you are the only one left to discuss that history, the learning may stop. The problem is when sharing that history with ones that weren’t there, history changes. Now you can’t change the past, you can’t change whatever decisions and choices you made, history is irreversible. It’s just that everyone’s version of history is just a bit different. Ironically, that’s true even when others share a memory of that past. And when you grow older, you don’t want anyone questioning your memories. It’s the paradox of aging.

Studies have shown that the older we get the happier we become. Of course that is a general statement. It’s just that we learn to let go of the negative things in life, we quit trying to change everything. The younger folks always feel the necessity to “improve” everything and anything. Each generation goes through that, calling it progress. And I’m not saying that it is wrong, I’m just saying that is what causes so much unrest in the world. We are all much happier with the familiar. My memories make me happy. I try to share that happiness with others with my stories. I’m afraid I’m not that good a writer.

I guess it isn’t a big revelation. It is something that should be obvious enough. It’s just that it something I feel like I understand now more than ever. You can only share a memory with those that were there. When you lose others, you don’t lose the memory, you lose the connection. Memory becomes a one way street. But the thing about that is, you get to choose what you remember. Merle Haggard may have said it best when he wrote: ” everything does change except what you choose to recall” What is your favorite memory? I haven’t chosen one just yet. There are just too many to choose from.