My memories of the past are generally …. well … fantastic. I didn’t know to what extent this was so ’til this past week, when we were discussing making a return visit to the Canadian Maritimes. It must be 15 years, maybe more, since we were last there. The kids were young then. Though I don’t think we’ve aged a day since. Anyhow, I was happily reminding everyone of the great time we had during that last trip. It appeared, somehow, that my memories were way more detailed than those of the rest of the gang. I remembered the kids climbing on rocks, going up to the gantry surrounding the lighthouse, waiting for the fisherman’s boat to dock so we could have lobster for lunch. The whole trip was one gorgeous, wonderful, idyllic set of experiences. Golf, beaches, patio dining, boat trips. And all in the most wonderful sunshine. The whole time.
Except it wasn’t!
Since nobody else remembered anything, I had to go digging around on the old backup hard drive to find the pics. When I found them, I gathered the flock around to bear witness to this amazing ability I had to remember things. Pretty much everything I’d reported was accurate. With one big exception: most of the days, ac
All my lighthouse, lobster & linguini memories were drenched in sunshine but the pics made a liar of me.
cording to these pics anyway, were grey!
There are two lessons to be learned from this. The first is that you should ignore that advice about focusing on the beauty of a place & not be taking photographs all the time. As you age, you’ll forget stuff, & photographs are how you retain those memories. The second thing is that you should probably ignore all those feelgood posts on social media. You know the ones I mean: “You are at one with the Universe … woohoo … allow the happiness to descend upon you from the mystical non-being entity” kind of crap. Based on this experience, I’ve realised that today will always look better when viewed from tomorrow. So now, I’m just not going to worry so much about today’s anguish.
Have a nice day. Tomorrow!