NOTE: I’ve been inspired to write recently by my good friend from North Carolina (you can read more about her in previous blog posts). She’s currently using her blog to write about her adventures in Washington, D.C., which is a world away from her hometown. I suggest you all give it a read. In a way, she’s inspired this piece you’re about to read. It’s about not forgetting the past.
Back in high school, we were told by our teachers to read “The Great Gatsby.” I didn’t read it until high school, when a once dear friend of mine said it was his favorite book and it accurately portrayed characters that were like people in our lives. Since then, I’ve always liked “The Great Gatsby,” but mainly for one reason — Gatsby gives the past its due.
The past is one of the most fascinating times in our lives. We can look back at the times we had and replay them in our minds like a repeat TV show. Our senses bring us back every time we sip, touch or smell. Our body and minds are so linked to our former lives that it’s impossible to simply sidestep them and forget those worlds.
I’ve been thinking a lot about college recently. It was two years ago, but the winter always brings back some heavy and fond memories.
One special set of memories that have come to me recently have been the times I spent with my oldest friend during my senior year. He worked at a local shop in the two I went to school in. So when I was free of class, and he was on break or done with his job for the evening, we’d get together for dinner or lunch and then hang out downtown with other friends we’d call in. This seem rudimentary and simple, but there’s some significance in my mind to these moments. It was all so simple, all so easy. It was a time when we knew lasting memories would come. No matter how many times we did this, we know, as he put it to me in a recent Facebook convo, “the drop of a hat or turn of phrase could steer a whole evening.”
Another time I’ve recently thought of: The weekend of December 2, 2012, when my North Carolina friend Ciera came up to visit. There was the car ride from Logan airport to my apartment back across the state. The way my friend Mary busted into my apartment without knocking. The way we all sat around in a circle and talked about life. The nights out on the town. The fancy dinner at Judy’s. The breakfast at McDonald’s before driving back to Logan. It was quick, it was short, but those fleeting memories still remain.
It all seems like a world away. And in a way it was. But it’s a world that still exists, somewhere, along the timeline of history. And it’s one world I never want to forget.
That’s not to say you should live in the past. It shouldn’t be everything you do, nor should you resort to your old ways when you’ve grown and learned. As you age, you learn new experiences and become wiser. That shouldn’t be ignored. But you shouldn’t forget the past completely, either. It’s what made you who you are.
You can’t forget the past, but you can’t repeat it either. You have to always remember the times you’ve been through and the life you lived. Remember it as it should be remembered. Be raw in how you think about it. Don’t romanticize it with rose-colored glasses. Embrace your failures, accept your shortcomings.
It’s what made you, which makes it as much a part of you as the now and the future.
I’ll never forget the life I’ve lived. Sure, I’ll move on. I’ll embrace my present for the sake of the future. But my oldest friend, my dearest North Carolina friend and all those in between will never be forgotten.
Herb Scribner 