Memory Lane…

I wrote most of this blog last week but didn’t get it finished. I was feeling rather exhausted to be honest and needed to have time to prepare for my return to work. I haven’t changed anything in the blog to reflect the fact that it was the week before last when this took place.

I feel like I am constantly bombarded by posts on social media telling me to live in the present, stop worrying about the future and leave the past in the past. I can understand what “they” are trying to say: dwelling in the past and perhaps your failures will only bring you down; spending all of your time thinking and fretting about the future means you are losing precious time. Being present, now, is how to live. While I don’t think “they” are wrong, I think in usual social media fashion, there is so much more to this than just what they eschew.

I see nothing wrong with taking the occasional trip down memory lane. I think however, if you stay there, then you’re going to have issues. But, remembering the way things were? I think there can be something warm and peaceful in those memories. As I’ve said many times, I prefer my holiday time in the summer to be spent at home. I have lots of work still to do as I bring my vision of this home to fruition. Summer is the best time to be working on all those outside projects and I don’t want to miss out on a minute. However, this past week, my last of holidays for this summer, was filled with day trips and every single one of them was perfect.

I mentioned in last week’s blog that my mom and I took in our local Highland Games. I grew up with parents who loved the pipes and drums and they passed that love on to me. My dad loved volunteering with the Legion at our hometown Games and I, although not often, was thrilled when I could attend. One year my son and I were home for a visit and he even competed in the children’s Games. It was great fun and it brings a smile to my heart to picture him as we was then, so young and in the kilt his poppa got him. This past weekend’s Games were extra special as the guest of honour was someone I’ve known most of my life. He’s a pillar of my hometown and was the funeral director for all of the family funerals at home. It was a real treat to see him in his role as guest and run into him for a quick hug and chat. That little trip along memory lane is about my foundation - my childhood in my hometown. I consider myself blessed that the majority of my memories have a rose-coloured tint to them. It wasn’t perfect but it was a great place and way to grow up.

That was the start of my week off. My next day trip was a round of golf with my friend and golf partner. We started our golf journey around the same time, just before COVID. We both had uncles who were great golfers and whose voices we can hear as we swing! She started with my company around the same time I arrived at Head Office. We hit it off and have grown closer over the past seven years. Golf has brought us even closer. As we teed off on Monday I was remembering the start of our golf and friendship journey. We’ve learned a lot and still have a long way to go. We’ve made a point of taking the Fridays in a summer month to golf. We pick different courses, back and forth between Ontario and Quebec. We don’t feel tied to any one course; we like trying new ones. We’re still new enough to the game that we don’t know which courses to avoid! With retirement coming up for me, I was wondering if we’d still take the time to continue our golf journey. I was met with a resounding yes! Although we started together because of the job, we became friends even outside it and I was reminded that it wouldn’t stop. That meant a lot to me. It’s important to consider friends when you’re thinking of retirement. If you don’t work to keep them up, and/or find new ones, you’re going to get lonely.

Next up this week was a true trip down memory lane. When I first started thinking about my childhood it was a month or so ago. I find that summertime can take me down that mental path. Maybe it’s because it was simpler times. We hung around at our pool, at the beach, with our friends, and life was easy. Anyway, whatever the reason, I was reminded of a trip we took as kids. Trips in summer weren’t a normal occurrence for us - my mom was busy taking university courses and my dad was getting as many hours in as possible ahead of winter layoffs. So, for us, summer was mostly about staying home. This particular trip that I remember took place in September. We went to Santa’s Workshop in New York State. My dad had a Super 8 video camera and we still have some of the footage. I don’t know if it’s the film or if it’s my memories but certain aspects remain vivid. The reindeer, the North Pole in the middle of the village, the train and the Christmas tree ride (you circle the tree in “baubles”). I recall that we had the run of the place, as it was quiet at the workshop when we were there. I took my mom, my niece and her daughter. It was exactly as I remember it. The paths were steeper but the rides remained the same and the nativity pageant was still being enacted along the hillside. Santa’s reindeer were in their barn and we visited them a few times, learning about their antlers and their babies. We rode the train, met Santa, indulged in a few treats and even found the same star wand that my sister and I had as souvenirs. (We brought one back for her!) Sure it was a little “cheesy”. Yet, there was something so comfortable about returning to a warm memory and having it feel the same.

I’ve mentioned many times that I love certain sports, Canadian football being one of them. On the Thursday night of my week of holidays we had a home game. It was a crazy game with two overtimes and wild calls and plays. It ended in a tie. You may ask why something that sounds so unusual would be about memories. I have loved football since I was a child. My parents didn’t have much money when we were kids and yet, I never felt we did without. I don’t know how they gave us what they did, to be honest. Somehow they were able to send my dad and I to football games. We didn’t go to them all and we never had season tickets but I do have multiple memories of sitting in the stands with my dad watching games. We sat on the same side of the field as I do now. I still cheer until I’m hoarse of voice. Maybe because I was already fully engaged in travelling on memory lane I drove home thinking of my parents and what they were able to make happen for my sister and I. I know it wasn’t easy. Because of them I’m able to fondly look back on those times with my dad.

My week off ended with dinner at a nearby farm. The wife is a member of our church congregation and threw open her house for a summer dinner. It was an interesting day. We started with a round of golf at a Par 3 near the farm and got stormed off the course! It was another day of wild weather - we seem to be having so many of them. I remember as a child we would have hot, humid days followed by a storm to break the humidity. However, my memories of those storms don’t include lots of impact. Maybe we lost power on occasion but since we didn’t have central air, I guess we didn’t really notice it. Storms meant we couldn’t go in the pool so that was an impact but overall, it seems like our weather is far more violent nowadays. Anyway, here I am digressing down the path of another memory. Back to dinner at the farm.

I sat with the farmer and chatted. He reminded me of my grandpa who spent time as a “gentleman” farmer. I remember clearly times spent in the kitchen of the old farmhouse talking with my grandpa. I loved my grandpa’s farm. I think it was the dining room that was a bit of disaster with all the books piled on the table. I loved that! I’m such a book hound myself that I appreciated it in my grandpa. Farmer Baker talked to me about history of the farm. He remembers when the livestock was sold off and his wife has a copy of the sale announcement framed on the wall. My grandpa was similar in stature and way of talking and I had a sense of connection with this farmer whom I had just met. I think sometimes memories sneak up on us and if we’re lucky we can physically feel that connection to the past.

I consider myself a very blessed person. My week off that was to be a series of work projects and time spent at home turned into a peaceful walk down memory lane. That lane went in a number of directions and timelines and I’m grateful for every step. I appreciate that the self-help gurus of today are sharing their tips for staying in the present and I’m grateful for a head full of memories that comes out to celebrate special moments of the past and present. A few months ago I was taken down a different memory lane that was populated with trauma. I’m working through it with a therapist and learning to live with it. All of these memories have created the person I am today. I’m finding a way to accept the trauma and reconnect with vulnerable parts of myself that I may have covered up. I think instead of dismissing my past if I can find a way to embrace it, listen to it, create a connection to it, the path forward may be easier to trod.

To swim or not to swim? Luckily this particular storm only resulted in rain.

Some images from Santa's Workshop in New York. 

Evolution of a rustic patio. My week off wasn't all fun and games. On Saturday I put in eight hours to get this finished. Very proud of what I've accomplished and excited to share with friends and family.