Experiencing Some Memories
When gazing out the window, I tend not to focus on anything in particular, almost as if I am looking through the “background”. I’ll experience peripheral vision of say, the blades of grass oscillating in the wind, but typically when gazing out the window, I find myself deep in thought and memories.
My memories, some vivid, some fleeting, are quite extensive.
I have many memories from childhood. Memories of my father helping me build with my lego and meccano sets, showing me how to repair a flat tire and replacing a spoke on my first bicycle. I have very vivid memories of riding on the gas tank of my father’s motorcycle. “Experts” today, would point to this vivid memory as being a result of a “traumatic” experience, to this I would respond, “an exhilarating experience”. I remember my father’s teachings regarding a multitude of subjects, too vast to list. I have memories of my father and I in a boat on the lake, fishing.
The more I consider it, the more I realize that a large percentage of my memories involve my father.
I bet there are many who believe you can buy a book and learn how to be a father.
One need not perform etymology on the word memory to understand the relationship to memorial.
In the early morning hours of September twenty eighth, two thousand and thirteen, Bernie, a man, a great man, and father, my father, “passed away”. Many would say he is gone, certainly not to this person, gazing out the window, experiencing some memories.