Her blog seemed to center around memories, and how we may remember things as they were, or remember them as we think it happened. She gave an example of being interviewed once and getting a tidbit a little off, being corrected by her mom. The center statement I feel she was trying to make was that it's not exactly *what* we remember, so much as it is *how we put what we remember to something good*.
I can relate - probably all too well. When I was taking some classes at the Seminary north of Columbus, Ohio, I took advantage of some sightseeing. After all, I grew up near there.
Sure, there are a lot of different things, the traffic is a lot worse than I recall, and the growth is amazing, but still, all of that, even though it has changed, is a part of me.
Like when I drove to Groveport Ohio to go to church. I could drive down the roads in Groveport to find the church that I went to as a kid, but to get to Groveport was a different experience.
One day I mentioned about going to Bucyrus to a bratwurst festival. It was great - the streets filled with people trying different brats and such, the smell of grilled brats through the town, and the simple "small town street fair" atmosphere. It all reminded me of when I was a kid and my family drove there once... I remember sitting along the sidewalk eating my brat with my brothers and sister. The difference was I *wasn't* at a festival. At best, dad must have driven through the town and we stopped to get lunch.
Maybe it was the idea of having a brat, or the smell of the grilled brats, or the old small town atmosphere that jogged my memory as it did.
As I am getting ready to move to a new appointment, a new place with a lot more people to remember each week, and learning a different community and way of life, I often stop to think back of how I've gotten here. The different people who have helped shape my life, those who probably couldn't wait for me to move, and some who will always be in my heart because of the impact they made on my life. I go through old boxes as I repack some things, considering all that I've done and what more I can do in my new setting.
I even found an envelope from a young gal in my last appointment who was afraid that I would forget about her (for the record, I never forgot her).
Sure, there are some facts of my past that I might not have exactly right, and there are some that others remember quite differently. How we remember things is connected to why we remember them. But one thing is for sure - I have my memories, and a lot of good ones at that.
