I have been talking and watching people in my family reconstruct history. It is something that cannot be recalled in a way that does any justice. This sounds absurd, but follow me out.
My Great-Uncle Robert, I've seen him now on a television screen and heard his voice. I have even laughed and smiled with his image on the screen. But if somebody were ever to ask me if I knew him, I would reply, certainly not. This is not to say I never did see him or touch him, I have evidence of these events in tapes, I can see them happening, but I cannot recall them. I was just a baby when I saw him through my own eyes and I have no recollection of these events.
When i think about how I might tell my children about my grandfather, whom I do know, I am tempted to do as Robert does (speaking about his father and other family members) and tell about events about from his life. I am tempted to tell my children about Grandpa's bronze star, about his honors and ribbons, about his long career as a chemical engineer, about his long marriage to my grandmother. All of these things speak to the nature of his character. But, they in and of themselves do not tell of the man I know. After all, I know my Grandpa as he has lived after the events of honor, in retirement, but still married. The reason I would say I "know" the man is perhaps because I know what it is like to hug him. I have done this countless times throughout my life. I hug Grandpa and we pat each other on the back. Our cheeks touch and I feel the scratch of his whiskers. I smell his scent. These sense perceptions come closer to telling about him, but there is something beyond the words he speaks, his actions, his principles and beliefs and beyond any sense information I can gather. Spending time together reveals this otherness in short glimpses which I may only be able to share with language, but is entirely separate from the conscious thought.
Hearing my family speak about their mothers, brothers, fathers, sisters, cousins ... makes me wonder what might be the hidden quality behind the story, that hidden otherness that they may have caught.
Nobody can remember everything, and for this we are to be joyous. But let us learn from those that remember well.
During our time on this world, we reach the point when we realize we all have built in filters that can dictate our interpretations of the external world. Thorough the process of growing older, education and reflection what we allow ourselves to think of as the truth, changes with different experiences. The people I see that claim they have a happy existence are those that do not dwell on the negative, rather they learn from the experience and move on. True with young and old , friends and family.......... so be happy;)
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