I may have mentioned in the past (at least I think I did, my memory isn't what it used to be), that my memory isn't what it used to be. Wait . . . did I say that already?!? Anyway, there seem to be two schools of thought that I have observed about dealing with the past. Permit me to ramble.
"Where has the time gone?!" This is an oft-heard lament that generally comes from those who believe that once time has passed, it is gone and lost forever. Though it can be remembered (hopefully fondly) it can't be reclaimed. "They grow up so fast" - "Things just aren't the way they used to be" - "I wish I could be (insert a younger age here) again." As time marches on, those passed memories fade unless sustained with exercises of recollection (perhaps enhanced by stories, home movies or photos); the work of keeping them alive through sharing and saving - if one is up for the task. But these folks tend to believe that what's done is done and what's gone is gone (OBTW: Why are done and gone spelled the same but pronounced differently?).
The other school of thought accepts the reality that the past has indeed passed, but feels that those cherished moments (and admittedly some troubled challenges) remain alive within us. Always there to be replayed, relived or revived for the sake of keeping them extant. These memories are stored and available to us, for as long as we can remember them. They haven't disappeared and thus should be mourned for their passing, but rather are all part of what makes each of us unique in our life experiences, and connects us eternally to all who shared in those accounts with us.
If you haven't figured it out by now, I ascribe to the latter philosophy. I don't pine for the promise and potential of being 21, I don't covet the cavalier craziness of my college years, I'm not forlorn for what it was like to have been only 40-years old at one time. I tap into them all as best as I can remember, enjoy the fun parts, and accept that all of that is what got me to today.
And speaking of which - it was on August 31, 2017 (also a Thursday coincidentally) that I was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma and this journey as we know it began. Six years and a lot of shhhtuff later, the time has passed, but it is indelibly written into the tome of my life and rides along with me as we move into the future. Thanks for coming along so far.
