Reflecting on Memories

Hey folks,

It's Jason checking in again. I've had a chance to do a little reflecting since my last post.  Work has been a bit intense recently and I find that my commute is often my best opportunity to allow my thoughts to slow down and catch up our pending life changes.  I've been thinking about fond memories of the past and about how my perception in looking back has somehow skewed.  My brain almost seems to filter out the "bad" and focus on the "good."  Example, when I was younger (maybe seven?), I recall having a terrible ear infection and going to breakfast with my Mom, Meme and Grandpa.  I remember the background discussions in the restaurant feeling like an unrelenting, brain pounding roar.  At the time, Michael Jordan tennis shoes were the must-have fad and I'd pester my poor mother on a daily basis to get a pair.  I guess Grandpa felt sorry for me that day, but he took me out to the mall after breakfast and bought me my first pair of Michael Jordan tennis shoes.  I absolutely loved those tennis shoes and to this day, a little smile will creep up when I see Michael Jordan tennis shoes in the mall.  Anyhow, I find myself reflecting on is the fond memory of the shoes, not how terrible I felt that day.

Not only do I seem to filter out the bad, but my good memories seem to get better with time.  Example, I once went on a weekend adventure with my Dad to climb "the thumb" in the Sandia's just outside of Albuquerque. I was in about the 7th or 8th grade.  I initially couldn't fully appreciate the trip for what it was.  In looking back, it wasn't just the adventure of the climb, but more importantly the car ride to/from that I have come to cherish.  We enjoyed good conversations and we must have listened to Pink Floyd's, The Wall at least three times over.  When I hear Pink Floyd, I still think of the good times and the developmental discussions that helped shape me as the person I am today.

In applying this sort of reflective logic to the present, I must remember to take advantage of those little moments and times that will soon become treasured memories.  Like the moment when Rachel and I shared our great news with our parents.  Amidst all the excitement, I captured a mental image of pure, unadulterated joy on my Dad's face. It was an image of a proud father filled with emotions that I can't fully appreciate. I'm sure that in time, as I experience fatherhood, I will continue to look back on the moment with increasing appreciation.

With all that said, I've picked up a new album that I've been listening to on my way to/from work.  There is a song on the album with a line that has really stuck with me.  The artist is Mumford and Sons and I would describe their work as haunting, Irish folk rock.  Good stuff if you get a chance to listen.  Anyhow, the line from the song, Winter Winds states:

We'll be washed and buried one day my girl
And the time we're given with be left for the world
The flesh that lived and loved will be eaten by plague
So let the memories be good for those who stay

Sounds a little morbid in writing, but when I hear that passage, I can't help but become overjoyed with the thought of future memories of not only Rachel and I, but "Jr" too.