There are many big moments in a person’s life: their birth, their graduation, their marriage, the birth of their child, and so on until their death. These moments are easy to recognize and to celebrate. We do it all the time. Any time you go to a party, there is some reason, even if it is just that it’s Saturday. A big moment doesn’t so much have to be remembered as to simply recognize as it being on “this date sometime.”
Just as important, perhaps more in some ways, are those little moments that define, not necessarily us as individuals, but that change or affect us in some way(s) that may take time to do so. Our child says his/her first word, takes first step, goes to school; we remember those days and what was going on in most cases. However, the first day you ate bread or the first time you successfully opened your high school locker are not moments that you can, probably, recall with much clarity.
I try to remember a lot of those moments. It may seem rather dumb now that I have so much problem with my memory due to age and stroke; but that is a part of the reason I want to. Days and weeks slip by me at times. I look back and remember all those evenings I sat in a chair at a nursing home watching baseball with my Dad. I didn’t and don’t care much for baseball, but he was at home here and I found a new way to connect, not by learning all about baseball, but by listening to him talk about and yell at the game. I remembered how I use to listen to him get so angry when his team was doing poorly or when a referee didn’t “make a good call.”
I remember my days in high school, though I remember less and less about less and less. That is a time when I grew up, not always good times, but more than I thought at the time. I never dreamed I would be 61, sitting at a computer, and have to say that I need to work harder to remember more all the time.
People are not always patient and happy with me. If you sit and talk with me for a long time or spend time doing things with me, you will, at some moment (I believe), have to shake your head to clear your mind of the things you are tired of with me. I can have perfectly good conversation with someone, then just mess it up because I will forget something important about them or the thing I was talking about. Jokes get poor when you forget the punch line or realize you just gave the wrong info for something needed.
Still not a pity party. I am not, and don’t, look for that in what I say or try to convey. This is merely my interpretation of the facts as I see them. I am telling you this because of a 46 minute special I saw on Amazon called “Jacob“. As a brief summary, Jacob is a young man (I haven’t looked up his age, but 20s or 30s, most likely. He is a special person; he has 10 degrees, including a BA, MA, Physician’s license, Attorney, Bio Ethics degree, and others. He has written and published 215 short stories, and well over a dozen books. He has lectured at Universities, taught in them, worked in an ER, and writes…
What I remember most is: he writes.
I am a pretty satisfied person. I have written and published more than 7 short stories in more than 4 collections of books. I have self-published several books on Amazon. I have had more than 25 jobs in my life, 2 distinct careers (computers and teaching), survived a major hemorrhagic stroke, and have written over 1200 blog posts. I have 2 wonderful, successful children, and enjoy my computer games. In fact, I am, currently, a beta tester for Fallout 76’s new mod/dlc entitled “Wastelanders”. I am not overly proud, just satisfied. I have more goals I wish to do, but I have come to grips with the idea of mortality. I think that is a basic bucket list item we all should have.
This post was to be about Jacob. I wanted everyone to watch the short documentary. That’s pretty amazing coming from me, anyway—a documentary?—wow! But, even more so, were the things it brought up in my head and the things that it didn’t so much. Jacob made me look at my life and see that everyone’s is so very different and that, in the end, you only have to be satisfied with it yourself…everyone else is, well, just along for the ride. They can get off anytime they want, and many have in my case. I have those I miss and those I don’t, but even those who I don’t miss being gone, when I think of them – there are memories, feelings, and other thoughts.
Everyone I have ever met, everyone in my life now, and all I will meet down the road – all have/are/will affect(ed)(ing) me. And that makes me realize something…they affect me and, while that is happening, I am affecting them. I say that all things are connected – Now, I know one more way…
Namaste to all who have ever, are, or will ever be any part of my life.
There is love of some type,
Scott
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