Thursday, December 22, 2022

Misty Watercolor Memories

 

Memories of Christmas

“Memories

Light the corners of my mind.

Misty watercolor memories

Of the way we were…”

Jonathan David Buck (“The Way We Were”)

          People of a certain age will remember this song from the movie of the same name, starring Barbara Streisand and Robert Redford. The song was first recorded by Streisand in 1973, which was a year for dreamy movies and dreamier songs. It came up in my waking this morning and has continued to play in my head. As always, I wonder what that’s all about.

          I think this season—whether we celebrate Hanukkah or Christmas—is a time of year for memories. We remember past holidays and who we were with and whether those were happy times or not. One of my Christmas memories is being asked to marry my boyfriend and having a tiny diamond ring placed on my hand. I was all of 19, a sophomore in college. He was 21 and headed to the Air Force after graduation. The year was 1966, and the Vietnam War was ramping up. That decision to marry so young and begin a seven-year trek of moving base to base and experiencing life for the first time outside the green quilt of Appalachia changed the trajectory of my life. For that I am forever grateful.

          Another verse in “The Way We Were” is:

“Can it be that it was all so simple then?

Or has time rewritten every line?

If we had the chance to do it all again,

Tell me, would we?

Could we?”

          When I look back, I realize how simple life seemed when I was young. How clear and unambiguous were the questions and decisions, taken in a moment. In our youth, we don’t have enough life experience to know what’s ahead and that’s a good thing—if we did, we’d probably hide and cry. When we’re young, we simply jump in with both feet—we take on whatever comes our way without the slightest doubt that we can do it. We don’t know that there is so much we don’t know. And that’s how we accrue life experiences—we run, we fall, we get up and go again. In the process, we learn the lessons we need to learn. Sometimes they hurt and sometimes they make us happy. We become more reckless or more cautious. We become more philosophical or just bitter. We may rejoice in our life or regret it. As for me, I have a few regrets; but mostly gratitude. I’m grateful to have lived as long as I have, and I look forward to whatever comes next. I read a quote recently by Mark Twain that said: “Do not complain about growing old. It is a privilege denied to many.”  

          Here’s wishing you all a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and blessing of the winter. Stay warm and make merry—the world needs as much joy as it can bear.

                                                  In the Spirit,

                                                  Jane  

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