Growing Old with “Old” or is it “New” Memories

Currently the thinking in Cognitive Psychology is that memories are not stored but are recreated.  Each time we “Remember” an event, our mind recreates the memory from bits and pieces of things that we associate with the event.  The impact of this process is that there is great latitude in the accuracy of what we believe happened in our pasts.  My spouse Karen and I often have totally different recalls of what happened at a given event.  Interviews with people who were on the “grassy knoll” at the time of JFK’s assassination show that their memories six weeks later had changed quite a bit.  From not seeing anything or hearing anything to suddenly remembering someone shooting or running and puffs of smoke appearing in the air.

Christmas is a wonderful time that serves as a catalyst for bringing up old memories.  Memories of days gone by with relatives.  Memories of cooking at Christmas or holidays with our mother.  Memories around the holiday dinner table.  Memories of gift shopping and gift giving.  Memories of decorating the house.  Memories of trees, lights and angels.

Many of our memories are poignant.  Some memories bring sadness as we remember the “Good” old days.  Most memories bring joy as we relive in our minds the love and happiness that we once shared with long-gone friends and relatives.  We conjure up pictures of a past that we paint with vivid colors, dramatic actions and a dream filled choreography which may or may not bear much resemblance to the actual event.  It doesn’t matter though.  We are not trying to sell it.  At worst, we want to share it with others and share with them the memories that they have.

I sit here thinking of some Holiday memories.  Some less related to the holidays and more or less related to the “good old” days.  I am not sure if they are real, but I tell myself that they are.  Here are a few that come to mind:

  • 18 cent a gallon gasoline
  • 25 cent movies
  • 15 cent popcorn
  • 10 cent bus rides
  • Ferris wheel rides at Coney Island
  • Swimming with my sisters at Lake Ronkonkoma
  • Walking by myself when I was only 7 to PS 171 school in Brooklyn
  • Propelling myself down a Brooklyn street on a scooter made with a wooden box and old roller skate wheels
  • Carrying groceries in my little red wagon for people from the store to their Apt. for 10 cents
  • Visiting with my cousin Louis
  • Dreaming that someday I would be an astronaut
  • Deciding if I really wanted to be an astronaut or maybe a world-famous archaeologist
  • Wishing that I had my own set of encyclopedias
  • Midnight mass on Christmas eve
  • Wondering if I would get a bicycle for Christmas when I was seven years old

To paraphrase the famous song from The Sound of Music, these are a few of my favorite memories.

Bows on gift boxes and dreams of new toys,

Shiny new building blocks and Lincoln log homes.

A bicycle with three speeds that was meant mostly for boys,

Trains that ran on 1/64 scale tracks, some with a cute little dome.

These are a few of my favorite Christmas memories.

I hope this holiday season brings joy, peace and prosperity to you and your loved ones.  I would love to hear from you what your favorite memories are.  Please use the comment section to post as many as you like.

I will post our annual holiday letter next Monday. 

 

What is Life without a Song to Live By?

Sometimes my mind simmers with proverbs or aphorisms.  “Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you may die.”  “The test of courage comes when we are in the minority; while the test of tolerance comes when we are in the majority.”  Hardly a day goes by when one or more of these pithy sayings does not assume authority over my daily life.

On other days, I am more guided by messages embedded in some song.  For instance, the idea of “Tradition” is a theme in the musical Fiddler on the Roof.”

Who, day and night, must scramble for a living,

Feed a wife and children, say his daily prayers?

And who has the right, as master of the house,

To have the final word at home?

The Papa, the Papa!  Tradition.

The Papa, the Papa!  Tradition.

My blog this week is simply a mélange or medley of some of the songs that give me inspiration.  Messages that without being invited often invade my life.  There is no particular order or priority to the songs in this blog.  I don’t know why or how these musical pieces pop up;  but suddenly, some extraneous words, activities or events trigger them.   Before I know it, I am humming a refrain in my mind. (If you care to hear the songs noted below, just click on the title which is hyperlinked.

Respect: Aretha Franklin

All I’m askin’ is for a little respect when you come home

(Just a little bit) Baby

(Just a little bit) When you get home

(Just a little bit) Yeah

(Just a little bit)

Isn’t this something we all want?  Just a little respect!  Sometimes it seems so hard to find these days.  The idea of a “Righteous Person” or a Mensch does not seem to resonate with modern society.

Ambition: Wale

The time is now on everything

Took my heart away from money, I ain’t interested in fame

And I pray that never change

Ambition is priceless, it’s something that’s in your veins

What is ambition?  When is it good and when does it corrupt our lives?  The Greeks had the concept of the “Golden Mean” and it certainly should guide our ambition or we become totally corrupted.

Trouble:  Robert Preston

We’ve surely got trouble (we’ve surely got trouble)

Right here in River City (right here)

Remember the Maine, Plymouth Rock and the Golden Rule

(Our children’s children gonna have trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble)

A cute song but it reminds me constantly of the need to be on the lookout for politicians that use hyperbole to sow fear in the polis so that they can reap their rewards.

Dreamin:  Johnny Burnette

Well, I’ll keep on dreamin’

Keep right on dreamin’

Dreamin’ ’til my dreamin’ comes true

My entire life often seems like one big dream.  Dreaming is more of a process for me than an end state.  I like to think that I am a Realist but more often I am an idealist.  I dream of a world defined by the words of Martin Luther King.

“I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right down in Alabama little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little White boys and White girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today.”

Camelot:  Richard Burton

The snow may never slush upon the hillside

By nine p.m. the moonlight must appear

In short, there’s simply not a more congenial spot

For happily ever after in than here in Camelot

Is there a place on this earth where peace and justice reign?  Where I can live happily ever after.  Where there is no fear or evil.  I am still looking for this place.  It exists in my mind.  If only I could find its physical manifestation.

Lonely Teardrops:  Jackie Wilson

My Heart Is cryin’, cryin’

Lonely Teardrops

My pillows never dry of

Lonely Teardrops

Who among you has not felt the pain of loneliness?  James Bond said that “Boredom” was the worst curse of all.  I disagree.  Loneliness is the worst curse of all.  No physical pain is as great as the heart ache of loneliness.  No man or woman wants to do battle with loneliness.  Sadly, it must come to all of us someday.

Satisfaction:  Rolling Stones

I can’t get no satisfaction

I can’t get no satisfaction

‘Cause I try and I try and I try and I try

I can’t get no, I can’t get no satisfaction

Sounds like a whine!  But we all have those days when nothing seems to go right.  We call our insurance companies, or we call our bank, or we call our hospital and we “Can’t get no satisfaction.”  I often wonder if anyone really cares about our satisfaction.

Old Man River:  Paul Robeson

Ah gits weary

An’ sick of tryin’;

Ah’m tired of livin’

An’ skeered of dyin’,

But Ol’ Man River,

He jes’ keeps rollin’ along!

I’m sitting on the bank of the Mississippi watching the river flow or I’m watching the tide roll in on the “Dock of the Bay.”  I am sick of tryin and I am sick of livin.  Suddenly, every problem I have just melts away.  My problems are mostly in my mind.  The river doesn’t care.  The ocean doesn’t care.  The river rolls.  The tide comes in.  Life goes on.

Well, that’s all folks!  I have dozens, maybe hundreds of other refrains.  Many of them will remain hidden until suddenly the right chord is struck, and I will be humming them in my mind.

So long, farewell

Auf Wiederseh’n, goodbye

I leave, and heave

A sigh and say goodbye

Goodbye

From — The Sound of Music

 

Were the Good Old Days Really Happy Days?

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Once upon a time there were the “Good Old Days.”  Now before you laugh or proclaim, “Oh No, not another Geezer gig;” allow me to issue some disclaimers.  First, If you are not at least 60 years old, you will not remember the “Good Old Days”.  The “Good Old Days” took place in the USA between 1954 and 1964.  They have also been called “The Happy Days.”  If you are under 60, you will be too young to remember these days.  Second, if you are an African American, you may not subscribe to my paean to “Happy Days”.  You will more than likely have had recurring experiences of overt racism in a country using Jim Crow laws to keep Blacks in their place and to put as many in prison as possible.

If you are Gay or LGBTQI+, you also may not remember these times very fondly.  Chances are you were forced to deny your sexual preferences and had to watch out on the streets for fear of being molested and assaulted.  If you are a woman, you might not remember these times very fondly either.  Back then, a woman’s place was said to be in the kitchen and her role was to be barefoot and pregnant.  There was no place for women in politics, business, military, or senior positions in any organization.  When it comes to other minorities, Jews, Latinos, Asians, Pacific Islanders, all would have stories of subtle and not so subtle discrimination during the “Good Old Days”.

But there is no denying that a large number of Americans do look back upon some of these days with a great deal of fondness.  I am one of them.  I do not tend to be overly nostalgic.  I do not spend much time looking back.  However, I have to admit, as a young White male during the period of time noted, life was not so bad.  The same was true for many older White men as well.  Even some of the groups excluded or ostracized by mainstream America during this period had a few exceptions.  People of color and other minority groups who may look back upon at least a few of these days with happy memories as well.

I was eight years old in 1954.  My age of innocence ended in 1964 along with many other young men who heard the Siren calls of war in Asia.  “Come save America from the Communists.  If you don’t stop them in Vietnam, before you know it, they will be in California.”  Kennedy was assassinated in 1963 and we put a man on the moon in 1969.  I joined the USAF in 1964 to save the USA from “Godless Communism.”  It would be another two years before I learned what is true of most wars.  They are waged by stupid people for stupid reasons and the people who suffer the most during these wars have the least to gain.

With these disclaimers out of the way, what are some good things that I remember about “My Good Old Days.”  Remember this is looking back and comparing the old days to the times I am now living in.  Some of these good things might not have been as good as I thought, but back then I was still in my “Days of Innocence” as well as in the my “Happy Days”.  Here is my list of good memories from the “Good Old Days:”

  1. Little evidence of environmental degradation
  2. No climate change
  3. Never heard of serial killers
  4. No worry about getting shot in school
  5. Plenty of snow during the winter to play in
  6. Water was drinkable everywhere and lakes were clean
  7. Floods and other natural disasters were much rarer
  8. I could walk to school by myself
  9. There were no anti-heroes only heroes
  10. Never heard of pedophiles
  11. I did not have to worry about a razor blade being put in an apple on Halloween
  12. Movies were 25 cents and candy was five and ten cents. Popcorn was 15 cents
  13. Gas was 21 cents per gallon and hamburger was 12 cents per pound
  14. Mom was home when I got out of school to make me a snack
  15. Lots of time to play sandlot ball on Saturdays with my friends
  16. The USA was in a brief period of peace between the end of the Korean War in 1953 and the ramp up of the Vietnam War in 1964
  17. We still had large family gatherings since people were not spread all over the globe or country
  18. We had bright starry nights since light pollution was not prevalent in many areas
  19. No concealed carry. You did not worry about being mowed down on the street by some maniac with a gun
  20. The Boy Scouts were still a respected group
  21. The really bad kids in school were those who chewed gum
  22. School bullying was uncommon
  23. Obesity was uncommon
  24. No such thing as road rage
  25. I could make a few bucks with a paper route
  26. The USA was at its peak of economic prominence. We were the major exporters of goods to the world
  27. Grid lock had not become common on our highways
  28. People were able to make a living on family farms and family fishing boats
  29. Speed limits were sensible
  30. Teachers, lawyers, and politicians were respected
  31. The average inflation rate in the United States between 1954 and 1964 was 1.37% per year
  32. Economic prosperity: The economy overall grew by 37% during the 1950s and unemployment remained low, about 4.5%.  At the end of the decade, the median American family had 30% more purchasing power than at the beginning.

Times have changed a bit.  No doubt you could make an even bigger list of good things going on today.  But there is no denying that once upon a time in a land called the USA, there was a set of days that for many people will never be forgotten.  For those of us who lived well during this period, we can’t deny our feelings of regret that so many of the things in my list have become shadows of the past.

Tell Me About the Good Old Days” by the Judds

Grandpa, tell me ’bout the good old days

Sometimes it feels like this world’s gone crazy

Grandpa, take me back to yesterday

When the line between right and wrong

Didn’t seem so hazy

Did lovers really fall in love to stay

And stand beside each other, come what may?

Was a promise really something people kept

Not just something they would say

Did families really bow their heads to pray?

Did daddies really never go away?

 

Whoa, whoa, grandpa, tell me ’bout the good old days

Grandpa, everything is changing fast

We call it progress, but I just don’t know

And grandpa, let’s wander back into the past

Then paint me the picture of long ago.

I don’t want to have to say goodbye to you, someday – by Kevin Holten

im-grieving

Mr. Holten was kind enough to grant me permission to reprint an article that he wrote as a columnist for a number of major newspapers.  I was very moved by his article about grieving and the death of a loved one.  I have written many blogs on the subject of love, death, dying and loneliness over the past 13 years but none of them come close to the images and memories that Kevin’s article evoked in me when I read his piece.  It is simple and short but quite poignant and moving.

The Following Story is by Kevin Holten:

If I was going to write a love song, this is what the title and/or chorus would be: “I can’t love you, because I don’t want to have to say goodbye to you someday.”

You see, on earth, love hurts.  Which seems so wrong because, if anything shouldn’t hurt, it should be love.

Which reminds me to ask you this question: Do you know what the most painful thing in life is?  It’s when there’s nobody left.

My grandmother died on her 99th birthday.  She laid in her hospital bed, the day before, with her arms held upward. And my mother had enough insight to ask her what she saw.

“My sisters,” she replied. They were beckoning her.

“If you want, grandma,” my mom said to her, “you can go with them.  We’ll be okay here.”

And the next day, on her birthday, as winds fueled another winter storm, she did just that.

Thinking back now, it hurts to think of how lonely she might have been.  As the youngest of 12 kids, she’d outlived them all.  Plus, her husband and my uncle, her son.

Oh sure, she had my dad (her son), my mother, us kids, and many grandkids. But no one to share the very early years.

And it must have been so different early on, when she was growing up and surrounded by so many brothers and sisters with so many kids, and even nieces and nephews almost her age.  There was no direction that she could look and not have family in sight.

Of course, I’m sure she thought it would be that way forever.  But nothing on this earth lasts forever.  Instead, it never lasts long enough.

My mom’s dad used to tell me the same thing when I was a kid.  “Yah, yah,” he’d say, “they’re all gone now.

He lived to be 96, and this was a man with six kids and plenty of grandkids to pack a house every holiday.  But he had no one there to talk about the very early years.  The “Olden Days” as they used to call them.  And I know that had to hurt.

“I can’t love you because I don’t want to have to say goodbye someday.”

As I look at him now, at the images stored in my mind, I can see that he felt alone, even in that crowd.

One day some years ago my dad and I drove out to where he, his brother and my grandparents lived when he was in grade school, high school and when he went off to war.  It was by then a barren farm/ranch yard on a hilltop with the only mementos being rusty tin cans and grandma’s old cook stove on a rock pile.

Some tears snuck out of my dad’s eyes while we were there that day.  Because, after all, there was no one else left who also knew about the things that took place there when he lived there.  He was with me.  But he was alone.

Irish poet and writer, Brendan Behan, once said that at the innermost core of all loneliness is a deep and powerful yearning for union with one’s lost self.

That’s it isn’t it?  When someone close to you dies, the part they have of you dies too.

Our Tree of Memories

IMG_20231210_214616709Every year since Karen and I were married we have put up a Christmas Tree.  Putting up a tree was once something I hated almost as much as I hated the entire Christmas event.  I would be more than happy to forget that Christmas ever existed.  I made my first wife miserable with my incessant complaints about Christmas and made a promise to myself not to let my hatred of Christmas get in the way of Karen’s love for the holiday.  So very dutifully I unload the tree and boxes of ornaments, put on some Christmas songs, and help Karen decorate our tree. 

Yesterday, we went to a friends open house to view her decorations.  She has absolutely the most gorgeous holiday decorations I have ever seen.  It takes her months to decorate most of the rooms in her home and I truly marvel at her energy and the organizational skills it would take to put all her decorations up, take them down, store them and then find them again the following year.  In one room, she had a very large beautifully decorated Christmas tree.  You would not find a lovelier tree in either Macy’s or Gimbels 😊.

After returning home, I sat down in our living room a few feet from our own tree.  I asked Karen what she thought of our friends tree, and she remarked how gorgeous it was.  In comparison, I thought our tree looked a little more puny and nowhere near as stylish.  I replied to Karen, “Yes, her tree was prettier than ours, but I like ours better.”  Karen agreed.  I then thought, if her tree was more beautiful, then why would I prefer ours?  I wondered if I was just being defensive.  I asked myself this question and I realized it was not defensiveness.  Our tree would not turn any designers heads but for me the beauty was in all the memories that were on our tree.  Almost every ornament has some memory attached.  I told Karen, “Think of all the memories we have on our tree.  I am going to write a blog about it.”

My blog strategy was to pick out several ornaments from among the hundreds on our tree and to share with you some of our memories in terms of what they mean to us.  Since the memories are both Karen’s and mine, I asked Karen to help pick some decorations that were special to her and to share her memories of them.  Karen inherited a few of the decorations from her parents and some she acquired before we were married.  Several of the decorations actually go back to before either Karen or I were born.  I will include pictures of our tree and each ornament as we both take turns describing our memories.  The ornaments selected are simply in random order.  

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I bought this ornament after my first wife and I were divorced.  It is the first ornament I ever remember buying.  Not sure what drew me to it, but I really loved it.  Maybe it was the woman that I wanted to marry.  After Karen and I were married, we hung it on the tree that we put up on our first Christmas living together. 

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I have an adopted Korean daughter, Susan.  I bought this at a summer Korean camp.  Susan went to Korean day camp as a child, but later began teaching at Korean day camp while her sons attended camp. The little bear is wearing the traditional Korean female dress called called the Hanbok.  It is a distinctive clothing item that is unique to Korea.  I wanted Susan to have knowledge of her birth country, and eventually she found her birth mom, visits Korea and keeps in regular contact with her.  

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I spent my high school years in Johnston, RI.  If you have ever been to Rhode Island, you will know the significance of this cup.  Dunkin Donuts permitted generations of young Italians like me to start “dunkin” their donuts.  My sister lives in Rhode Island and a highlight of our visits there used to be a trip to a Dunkin Donuts store.  From a small local chain, they are now a national chain.  I never really thought their coffee was that good.  Karen likes expresso coffee and Dunkin Donuts was not known for their expresso.  

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In 2020, after our Russia trip was cancelled due to Covid restrictions, we replanned a trip to Spain.  We went to Spain in 2021 and stayed just outside Barcelona in a town called Cervello.  Barcelona is one of the most beautiful cities we have ever visited.  Perhaps the most extraordinary building in the city is the La Sagrada Familia.  It was designed and built by the architect Antoni Gaudí.  This ornament is a design by Gaudi that shall always remind us of the La Sagrada Familia. 
 
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The Six Most Significant Events in My Life

This year marked my 34th retreat at the Demontreville Retreat House in Lake Elmo, Minnesota.  One of our assignments during the retreat this year was to list the six most life changing events in our lives.   I completed the assignment as directed. 

Three weeks later at my weekly writers’ class, I remarked on this retreat activity to our writing instructor.  Dr. Carolyn Wedin (our writing instructor) thought it would make a great writing exercise.  She suggested that we do a 50-word summary of each of the six most significant events in our lives and bring them to class. 

Following are my results for this assignment.  If you want to make any comments, I would love to hear what your “most life changing” events were.  Please feel free to share yours or any comments you may have about this activity.

Enlisted in the Military in 1964

You’re in the army now, you’re not behind the plow.  You will never get rich by digging a ditch, you’re in the army now.

Snuck out at 3 AM in the morning to go to the recruiting station.  Who has the best-looking uniforms?  USAF here I come.  Can I fly a jet?

Who’s that knocking on my barracks door?

Good friends steal softly in my barracks room at 1 AM.  “John, we are going to rob the BX and go to Mexico.  Come with us.  It will be a blast.”  Six months later, I am testifying at their court martial trial.  Jail and dishonorable discharge awaits.  Glad I did not go.

Only Child Born

Never thought I would be a father, but that is what happens to people ignorant of birth control.  On April 19, 1968, my daughter Christina was born.  Blond and blue eyed, she looked like her mother.  Have not heard from her for fifteen years now.  I still love her.

College Here I come

Trouble maker in high school.   No college wants me.  No money anyway.  Two years after my military service, I am accepted into a college thanks to a HS counselor who helpfully lost my school records.  I work nights and go to school days.  I later earn a Masters and Doctorate.

My Dream Job

Can’t believe they are paying me to do this.  I would gladly pay them.  Finished my Ph.D. and started work one week later at PMI.  The fit was perfect.  Training and consulting were my best skills and I loved every minute of the challenges they offered.

Marriage the Second Time Around

Did not notice her when we were introduced the first time.  Fell in love with her smile, but it took her perseverance to seal the deal.  Cannot imagine marrying anyone else now.  Second marriage is a winner.  We will grow old together, what could be better.

Time for Questions:

What are your six most life changing events?  How have they changed or impacted your life?  What if they had not happened?

Life is just beginning.

“That which causes us trials shall yield us triumph: and that which make our hearts ache shall fill us with gladness. The only true happiness is to learn, to advance, and to improve: which could not happen unless we had commenced with error, ignorance, and imperfection. We must pass through the darkness, to reach the light.” — Albert Pike