I think memories, like fine wine, are better remembered aged and not recently bottled. There is a certain nostalgia to aged memories that brings a poignant element new memories lack. An old memory settles like a warm blanket draped over your shoulders, that warm fuzzy feeling we often yearn for. They whisk us away to a far off place, at once distant, yet at times seeming like yesterday.
When I look at pictures like these, I am there, growing up in the 1950s and 60s. To paraphrase a line from the movie, “While You Were Sleeping,” “I just don’t remember it being that( black and white).” It does look like the world had discovered color by 1976 , when we got married.
People often groan when someone hauls out the photos of their last cruise, but a conversation beginning with the words “Remember when…” has an entirely different reaction. When we gather together on holidays, we often tell guests the funny stories of our lives, and laughter fills the room.
Our memories define who we were and who we are. The old memories provide a framework and the new experiences, fresh memories, fill in the frame and will one day be old memories, too. And we will say, “Remember when we took that cruise…