Remember the Times

“Never regret a day in your life. Good days give you happiness, bad days give you experience, worst days give you lessons, and the best days give you memories.” 

There’s a difference between remembering the past and living in the past.  I constantly hear people say, forget about what happened in the past, but actually it can be a good thing to remember, even quite therapeutic, so that you don’t repeat the same mistakes. The truth is that the past is responsible for your present, for your maturity or lack thereof.  And what about those unfortunate souls with Alzheimer’s? How they wish they could remember.

I personally don’t have a good memory. Out of my three children the one that struggles with memory is of course the one who is most like me – my son. Actually I think we both have “selective” memory.  We can remember the most random things like somebody’s birthday that we have very little connection with but when it comes to things like me memorizing a song on the piano I’m done!!!  I remember agonizing with Yamil over memorizing his Bible verses.  We would go over and over them only for him not to be able to repeat them back without mistakes. Once I figured out that he was a lot like me (a visual learner) I began having him write them down over and over and finally we had success. (Maybe that’s why I began writing so I could remember things that happened). What’s funny is that growing up I always remembered the words to every song on the radio. Even today I remember a poem I had to recite in front of the entire class when I was in the third or fourth grade….”My Shadow” by Robert Louis Stevenson. When the children were little it was not at all unusual for me to find the three of them sitting in front of the TV watching a movie and individually they would be reciting line for line the entire movie.  Really? Just how many times do you have to watch a movie to know ALL the lines?  Maya had the best memory ever. For the life of me I can’t figure out where she got that trait.  Nayda was definitely my perfectionist – very careful and deliberate. She definitely gets that from her father. During a parent/teacher conference one time I went to see her keyboard teacher. She had previously told me how Nayda seemed to be struggling with her typing.  Since typing was my expertise, I couldn’t grasp why it was taking her so long to get that typing thing down. Well when I went for the conference the teacher was telling me how she had made such great progress (now mind you, this is after a good portion of the marking period had passed). She proceeded to show me her latest paper where she typed 12 words a minute. WHAT???? It took all my restraint not to laugh – a whole 12 words with no errors. Clearly typing was not one of her strong points. She was so proud of herself and honestly so was I.

We live in a day where you really don’t have to remember much.  Just remember to always have your phone nearby – after all, it remembers everything!!! I don’t have to remember a phone number or an address, I don’t have to remember how to get somewhere. Just look at all the memory space I’ve freed up just by having my phone.  I guess it gives me space to gather and savor the experiences I’ve had and still have room for those I’ve yet to have. I remember this street, or that time – mostly I remember how I felt and what triggered a smile or tears. I remember a touch. I remember a certain smell, like my grandmother’s homemade biscuits or the smell of the corner store by my aunt Minnie’s house that sold the best orange ices.  That was always Sunday afternoon’s treat after the perfect dinner she and Charlie would make for my sister and me.

I remember visiting with my dear friend’s father, 95 year old Mr. Ernest, who was in a nursing home.  As we sat and talked I asked if he wanted to listen to the radio or go out and interact with others. He told me emphatically that all he wanted was to sit and reminisce.  He didn’t need friends or the news or any other such distraction. He merely wanted to be alone with his thoughts – his most cherished memories that kept him alive and waiting for that time when no more memories were needed. Just imagine all the memories he had stored up in his 95 years of life. On his walker he kept a picture of his wife, Lovie, who had passed on a few years before. They had been married 66 years. Legend has it that they met at the Savoy ballroom in Harlem and became, not only dancing partners, but partners for life. These days I’m sure they are dancing in heaven. I often think of him now, the preciousness of his words and I have to admit I am beginning to understand that need to remember, to grab hold of all that was.  I’m thankful for all the treasured experiences that have sustained me during some of the hardest days of my life. Inevitably there is a mixture of happy and sad memories that I can reach back and grab a hold of to get me through, depending on what the current  circumstance dictates; and when I can’t remember something, some obscure date, some year in history that something happened, some important fact that I should remember, I reach over and grab my phone and ask Siri – she never fails me!