Time is an illusion. So is memory. Memory has a way of reordering itself, making itself look better than it actually was. That's what the brain does. Keeps the good. Jettisons the bad.
Had breakfast with some good friends this morning. I worked with most of these people for 15 to 20 years. One of my best friends (who recently moved to Wisconsin) was there, too. After a few minutes of awkward catching-up questions, the talk became like the talks we used to have at the Surgery Center where I used to work--casual, serious, joking, earnest--all at the same time. At one point, I counted four different conversations going on at the same time.
It was good to be with these women (yes, they were all women). They sort of defined one part of my life for close to two decades. And it was really good to see my best friend who now lives in the Green Bay Packer state. She has seen me through some difficult times in my personal life. For the last two years at the Surgery Center, she kept me sane. When I walked out of that place on the last day, she was right by my side. We went out for drinks and fries afterward. Cried in our beers, as country music songs go.
I miss that time a lot now. As things usually go in life, I never realized how good I had it until it was gone. I wish I could go back about five or six years, to when my sister was still alive and running the Surgery Center, and I was surrounded by these friends. Yes, we got under each other's skins. Yes, we fought and argued. It wasn't perfect, but, in my mind, it's a time gilded with gold now.
We all have moments in our lives that we wish we could return to. Weddings. Children's births. Graduations. Moments when, for a few fleeting hours or days or weeks, everything seemed happy and perfect. Of course, they weren't perfect. There was struggle and pain and heartache. Yet, the human mind has a way of whitewashing those negative feelings so that all that floats to the surface is the cream. (I'm mixing metaphors, I know. Stick with me.) I like cream.
I've been indulging in nostalgia a lot these 'ber months (September, October, November). I'm sure that I'll be doing the same in December. As my tiny part of the world goes fallow and takes its long winter's nap--and things change for worse or better--I will continue to think about past times with friends and family. The holidays always do that for me. I think of bygone Halloweens and Thanksgivings and Christmases. Old costumes. People who no longer are at the table, eating turkey. Christmas presents I no longer have to buy.
I think that nostalgia can be dangerous. You can get stuck in the past. You take inventory of all of the blessings you've received over the years. 'Tis the season. Fa-la-la-la-la. I need to keep reminding myself that God always has something up His sleeve. Prayers that will be answered. Gift-wrapped graces under the tree. I may look back on this time in a few years and think to myself, "Jesus, that was a good time." That's the power of memory.
Think about that as you go through your day tomorrow. Those pancakes you have for breakfast may be the best pancakes you've every had. That song you sing in church may become your favorite song. That Christmas tree you decorate may be the prettiest ever. Don't take the small things for granted.
This morning, Saint Marty had the best breakfast with his friends.
No comments:
Post a Comment