Tag Archives: memories

Milestones disrupted

There are many families trying to create prom and grad experiences for their graduating kids. There are photo shoots happening in back yards and parks, minus the limos and groups of friends congregating at fancy halls and decorated school gyms.

I’m the parent of a Grade 12 student. Tonight was supposed to be opening night of her school play. She was to be Morticia in The Addams Family. We’re ordering in and having a family game night.

I don’t remember crossing the stage for my Grade 12 grad. I remember that I had an operation to fix my broken nose around that time, but I don’t remember missing my convocation for this, I don’t remember anything about it at all. Strange. I remember my grad dinner/dance. It was a fun night, but it isn’t something I cherish.

But my last water polo game I’d ever play in high school wasn’t cancelled. I wasn’t in band, choir, or musical theatre, and I didn’t miss my last performance. I got to walk the halls on the last days of school with my yearbook, getting it signed by friends and acquaintances.

It won’t necessarily be an easy end of the year for our high school grads. No matter how graduation is celebrated, it won’t be what was expected, what was being looked forward to. It’s up to the adults to step up and make it special. Plans might be disrupted, but we can still make events positively memorable.

In the shadows

I had a conversation yesterday with someone who carries very strong negative memories with them from something that happened many years ago. It wasn’t violent, and didn’t cause any trauma to their body, but it did to their mind. It was essentially an emotional bullying issue, one that especially hurt because it came from someone believed to be a friend. It hurt more because it wasn’t just a one-time thing, it was repeated.

As I listened, I was taken back by the hurt that was still carried. They say ‘time heals all wounds’, but I think sometimes ‘time wounds all heals’. Sometimes the passage of time does not separate us from emotional pain, rather time bathes us in it.

I think that’s why people end up self medicating. It’s easier to numb the pain than it is to face the pain that lurks in our memories, haunting us. The memory, the upset, the anger, or the pain, can seem as present and as relevant as things happening to us daily.

I’m not a psychologist, and I don’t play one on tv or the internet, but I asked this person a question.

I asked, when recalling the incidents, if they saw the experience through their own eyes or if they saw themselves in the memory as if they were watching a movie? The answer was ‘it’s like a movie’.

Aren’t our minds amazing things, that we can recall a memory and see ourselves in that memory! How does that work? We aren’t really reliving it if we can see it happening to us. It’s more like we are watching our own history. This gives us more power than we might think we have:

  • We don’t have to review our memories up close.
  • We don’t have to recall our memories in full colour or at full speed.
  • We can create new endings. Rewind and replay it.
  • We can literally put the memory into a television screen.
  • We can recall memories as still, black & white, blurry photos in old frames.

We can move memories into the shadows of our minds rather than have them fill our brains in full technicolor and splendour. We don’t have to get rid of them, (I’m not sure we can), but we can reduce their power over us. We can relegate the memories to less significance.

It’s similar to controlling anger. When something upsets us and makes us mad, how long do we hold on to that anger?

Let’s say you are driving to work one morning and someone cuts you off. I mean really cuts you off, you have to break hard and swerve into the curb lane to stop from hitting them and getting in an accident. You slam on the breaks and your horn simultaneously, but the other car drives off, seemingly oblivious to what they just put you through. How long do you hold on to that anger?

Is 5 minutes appropriate?

What about for the rest of your commute?

What about until everyone at work has heard your story?

How about until you’ve told your spouse when you got home.

How about the following week?

How about you recall the incident every time you pass that spot on the road on the way to work?

How long is it acceptable to hold on to that anger, to build up that moment in your mind? How long do you let that that angry moment in the past control your emotions in the present?

We have many memories that belong in the shadows of our mind, rather than in full colour and right in front of us.

If we can learn to not let the anger of a jerk that cut us off minutes, hours, days, or weeks ago control our present state or well being, couldn’t we do the same for something years in the past.

Maybe we can let time heal our wounds .

It may take practice, but if we’ve already changed the memory into a movie, seeing it from a perspective that we didn’t experience, then haven’t we already made changes that have removed us from the original experience? And if our minds can do that on their own, maybe we can choose to ‘see’ those memories in more distant and less angry ways. Maybe we can alter our past so that it interferes less with our present.

The memories that make us who we are

What are the defining moments in your life? When asked a question like this, we often think of big choices, like choosing a university, a life partner, a house, or a country to live in. But what about the little moments?

  • Parents who hugged you when you fell and cut your knee.
  • Being read a bed time story.
  • Family vacations.
  • Visits to or from grandparents.
  • Sports teams.
  • Sleepovers.
  • Trips abroad.
  • Boyfriends or girlfriends.
  • Parties, camping trips, hanging out in basements, dances, night clubs, and concerts.

If you are lucky, each of these examples will bring fond memories, and smiles. For others, one or more of these could trigger a memory of abuse or neglect or of missing out. For some, the memories are mixed, a blend of joyous nostalgia and bitter reflection.

These memories accumulate and our choice to focus on them help define who we are now, and what choices we make in the future. We might like to think that today is a new day filled with potential, but that potential is determined by our past, and the patterns we have set for ourselves. If these memories and patterns didn’t matter, we wouldn’t need so many self-help books, and therapists, and seminars that are available to help us break the cycles we get stuck in.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could alter our past to help us better align with the future we want? Could we look back at past memories and make the painful ones more distant? Could we find the hidden lessons we need now and see the value from the hardships we faced? Could we alter our histories by deciding to focus on what has made us stronger, wiser, and more resilient?

Do we own our memories or do they own us? If this is a choice we can make, what’s stopping us? Do we not have the power to make the memories that make us who we are?

Advice to a younger me

My youngest daughter turns 18 today. She graduates high school in June.

I’m writing this in the same living room my wife and I sat in before taking her to the hospital for my daughters delivery. The same living where that happened for my older daughter who is now 20. The furniture has changed, our cars have changed, my hairline has changed. Our kids have grown up. I feel relatively the same.

Sure my aches and pains take longer to heal. I have memories that have faded. I see lines in my face that were not there before. I seem to have lost certain memories. But I feel the same. I feel like less time has passed. I feel like two decades have raced by.

Have you ever wondered, if you could go back in time and tell yourself something, what would you say? What would you say to the younger version of you?

I’d say, “Commit both time and attention to things at the same time.”

That’s all. I wouldn’t want to say anything else other than ‘be more present’. Of course this is advice I could and should take now. After all, if the last two decades blinked by, that’s a pretty strong suggestion that the next two might go just as quick, or faster.

The land of giants

I remember a comic strip where a son and father in winter coats were in front of a house with big icicles on it.

Frame 1: The boy says, “Wow dad, look at the size of those icicles!”

Frame 2: The dad says, “They were a lot bigger when I was a kid.” And the kid responds, “Come down here”.

Frame 3: The dad is kneeling down, eye level with the kid, and the dad says, “Wow, look at the size of those icicles!”

– – –

It’s not always easy to see things from the same perspective as we did when we were younger. For me, I remember people around me being giants (in more ways than one).

My grandfather, Leon Bernstein or ‘Papa B’, was one of those giants. Last night on Facebook Messenger, I connected with my 2nd cousin Lee, his full name is Leon, named after my grandfather. He is my grandmother’s brother’s son, but Lee is only 4 years older than me. Still, growing up in Barbados as the oldest grandchild on one side and second oldest by 5 days on the other, Lee was so much bigger and older, and I looked up to him when we came to visit.

I feel blessed because when I was a kid, all the giants in my life were good to me. Wonderful parents, grandparents that spoiled me, aunts and uncles who treated my like their own, 2nd cousins who taught me football (soccer) and cricket.

Some people have to grow up with angry giants, and some with monsters, my land of giants were exceptionally loving and kind. I truly feel blessed, and I thank Lee for reminding me of this.