The
further one is from the source of a memory, the more likely time is
to alter and rearrange things, rather like a well-meaning mental
housekeeper who thinks the couch would look better over there.
Most people never even realize that what they’re sure happened at a
certain time in a certain place in fact did not. But because I have
so much of my life laid out in the form of letters and other
non-fiction writing over the years, I often run across
incontrovertible evidence that what I was sure I remember clearly
simply either didn’t happen that way, or didn’t happen at all.
This is not pleasant, and it most certainly is not reassuring.
I
think I mentioned this before, but I was absolutely positive that I
had been in Genoa, Italy, on the day that the ill-fated Italian
liner, Andrea Doria, set sail on her final voyage in 1956. I
clearly remember looking up as our liberty boat passed under her
stern, and wondering...rather presciently...how anything so huge
could possibly ever sink. (Surely, I thought, the bottom of the ship
would hit the bottom of the ocean before the water ever reached the
superstructure.) It was a story I told many times and believed with
all my heart and soul.
But
on re-reading the letters I wrote my folks from our several times in
Genoa, I find no mention of the fact and, on checking to see when the
Andria Doria last left Genoa, found the ship on which I
served, the aircraft carrier Ticonderoga, had been nowhere
near Genoa at the time. On reflection, the liner may have been the
Constitution, which I do mention in a letter. Odd how the mind
works.
Memory’s
malleability can also be seen in the fact that, depending on the
emotional makeup of the individual, our recollections of past events
tend to either enhance the pleasant memories or intensify the bad. I
now look back on my days in the Navy with far more fondness than my
letters…and a closer look at reality…warrant. But I suspect that
is simply because we are too busy living in the present to see its
true impact on our lives with the perspective time provides.
How
many times have we heard the caveat to live (and appreciate) every
day as if it were our last? And how often, on hearing it, do we
realize the validity of the advice only to have it almost instantly
buried by the minute-by-minute demands of our lives. And though we
may fully agree on the value and importance of letting those people
in our lives know how we feel about them, we do not do so out of fear
of seeming “odd.”
We
seldom think, in the “now”, of how much we might some day want to
remember how the events of our lives truly unfolded. Diaries and
journals are the surest way of making sure that future memories will
be accurate, but few of us keep them. In lieu of those, I have a few
suggestions: take more photographs, even of things which do not seem
at all important to us now. And with every photograph be sure to
write down as much information about it as you can: date, location,
the people shown. Of course we know all about them as the photo is
taken, but again, the years will blur the details.
As
with good wine, and anything at all collectible, memories age and
mellow with the passage of time, and become more ever more precious
as we reach the point in life where so many of the people who form
the foundations of our lives are no longer there, and all we have of
them are memories. Always remember that today is tomorrow’s memory,
and do whatever you can to preserve as much of it as you can.
Dorien's
blogs are posted by 10 a.m. Central time every Monday, Wednesday, and
Friday. Please take a moment to check out his website
(http://www.doriengrey.com)
and, if you enjoy these blogs, you might want to check out Short
Circuits: a Life in Blogs (http://bit.ly/m8CSO1 ).
2 comments:
Thanks, Dorien. Memory is a favorite subject of mine (and of mind). Very interesting, your recollection of the Andrea Doria. I wonder what Proust would say about it?
I can't say I disagree in the least. I've been going through my photo albums and pulling out all sorts of pictures and memories of days gone by. Eventually, I'll even get over to borrow albums from my parents and scan things in.
It's amazing how much of our life we capture without realizing it.
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