Time
Traveling
“I
now resolved to go to bed early, with a firm purpose of also rising
early the next day to revisit this charming walk; for I thought to
myself, I have now seen this temple of the modern world imperfectly;
I have now seen it only by moonlight.”
Karl
Philipp Moritz
My
girl cousin, Sandy, and I will travel up to Chattanooga today to
revisit our childhood neighborhood, and remember our time there in
the 1950's. This trip is rather like when old soldiers return to the
battlefield decades later to make peace with their memories. Memories
are so imperfect—like seeing a place and a time by moonlight.
Details are not sharp, we remember mostly impressions and feelings.
Especially if we were young children at the time, our memories are
like old photographs of half-recognized people.
I
tell myself that Sandy's memory of things is clearer than mine—that
she's by nature a detail person, having been an engineer, and as
such, will have sharper images. I was a diffuse child,
preferring to walk in half-light even in the middle of the day, so as
not to see too clearly what was going on around me. Perhaps you were
that way too. Revisiting the past can help with many things: clearing
up misconceptions, reorienting ourselves to place and time, stirring up
memories that have been carefully stored away. It's that last one
that causes me some anxiety. It is not unlike going into the “cold
case” records room in a police station, and finding a box with your
name on it.
I
want to write about the time in my life when I lived in Chattanooga as part of remembering the stories, both the good ones and the bad. I
wonder whether you have stirred your particular pot in such a way,
and remembered what you had long forgotten. It's like replacing
missing bricks in a wall; it makes the wall sturdier and more likely
to stand the stresses of time. Wish me luck, as I wish for you on this
beautiful day in early June.
In
the Spirit,
Jane
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