Stumbling Through Nostalgia

In the past several months, through the magic of Facebook, I have been stumbling through nostalgia. I have reconnected with some old friends and acquaintances from my grade school and junior high school years. I don’t know about most people, but I’d honestly rather forget most of what happened during those years. In fact, I’d rather have my fingernails pulled out without anesthesia rather than face some of those memories (for the record, I have recently experienced having part of my fingernail pulled out – it hurts).

However, having stumbled on to an old friend on Facebook, I began to encounter others. Some found me and wanted to be friends and I found others, including those whom I don’t want to be friends with. I wandered around a few fan sites for my old schools, checking out other people who were in my classes as well as pictures from the schools. I even went so far as to pull out an old year book to compare pictures. My friend looked pretty much like an older version of himself then. He hadn’t changed much. I found a girl that I had a huge crush on in eighth grade. She’s not so pretty anymore. I found out that one of the bullies that I had to deal with died violently a few years ago. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Memory is a funny thing. As I looked at old pictures and tried to remember things, I realized how skewed my memories had become over the years. Things that I thought I clearly remembered were actually different. Faces were different than they were in my head. Places in the school looked completely wrong. Even the map that I have in my head of my hometown doesn’t reflect reality. Many of these memories had a surreal feeling to them as I explored the reality. It was as if I was viewing them through a filter, like an old movie reel.

I don’t know what bearing this has on the world, but for me, there are many memories that I don’t really want to be crystal clear in my mind. I’d rather not remember too clearly those years of puberty. I really don’t want to have the pain of loss from a loved one stay razor sharp for the rest of my life. The fear I remembered watching my wife in childbirth and heading off for c-section is something I don’t want to be fresh in my mind on a daily basis.

I’m not sure why our memories fade so,

but it is probably a gift.