Memory – July 28, 2011

What Linda Does With Pinches From Coleus From The Garden

Now I tell little stories day after day after day and I usually depend on my memory. God forbid, but then my memory is the only one I got, unless and until you loan me your memory fellow gardeners and with your memory in my head my stories are going to really change in character……:-)  One of my best friends Brad S. who was at the hot dog extravaganza over at Mrs. Blackweler’s that day in the little story yesterday called “Invisible”, wrote to me and told me that he remembered the reason for the cookout other than the baseball game was the culmination of Vacation Bible school week back then and now that I think of it he was right. Mrs. Blackwelder had invited Robert to attend Vacation Bible School…..Like I said, Mrs. Blackwelder “saw” all the kids, no kid was “invisible” to her. I heard from another one of my friends about the story yesterday about being “Invisible” He told me Mrs. Blackwelder was one of his favorite teachers and I know why too, but he also said when he read what Robert said to Mrs. Blackwelder about all them hot dogs my buddy spit his coffee out all over his computer monitor and keyboard. May I suggest in the future Brent that you don’t mix drinking alcohol and driving or mix drinking coffee and reading one of my little stories. Other drivers on the road will be all the better for it and so will your computer keyboard and monitor……..:-)

One day while exchanging thoughts and memories on Facebook about old pictures of Piedmont, I loved what Freda Powell Davidson said. I kinda paraphrase her now, but something like her memory was a treasure and worth all the money in world and she wouldn’t trade it for all the money in the world either or something to that affect and she was right on with that I think. I told her that no matter what the economy did or if congress did or didn’t raise the debt ceiling or the stock market crashed or even went through the roof, our memories could never be taken away from us no matter what. And that too is the truth.

Now folks like my Uncle Herschel he has a funny idea about memories and well nostalgia if that’s what you want to call it. Me I call it appreciation of ones life experiences…My Uncle Herschel calls it a waste of time. The dead are dead, the past is the past, it’s life today and what we’re going to do tomorrow with our time that matters most. He makes a couple of I wouldn’t say good points but points none the less. I love old pictures, I love to look at old pictures, they feed my soul but Uncle Herschel doesn’t waste his time, he’s too busy making new pictures…..:-) I reckon there is something to be said for both points of view. Sometimes when I have to nearly pry any old stories out of my Uncle Herschel about things I want to know, things I need to know about our family and loved ones gone by, well I have to tug and drag them sometimes out of Uncle Herschel and at that time I’d just like to wring his neck but Uncle Herschel is Uncle Herschel and even though he’s going on 82 now but looks  62 and acts 16, well I’m still scared of old Uncle Herschel from when he disciplined me back in the days when he thought mother and daddy didn’t, well didn’t discipline us kids enough to suit old Uncle Herschel…..:-) But wringing Uncle Herschel’s neck is still not an option yet, maybe when he gets 90 I’ll try it……..:-)

But for me, memories fuel the present and the future and memories give the world of today a sweet scent, not a musky scent of a room that”s been closed for years. You see I seem to use my memories everyday. Like I said they fuel my days today and my tomorrows. I reckon I just look and feel things differently than Uncle Herschel… It don’t make my view right and Uncle Herschel’s wrong or visa versa. We’re just different. I can bring things to mind that are so real I can nearly reach out and touch them and Uncle Herschel? Well maybe he just doesn’t see them or maybe he doesn’t take the time or effort to see them. I don’t know. I only know what memories are for me. One could say I live in the past but as a hardcore gardener, well you can’t hardly accuse me of that, gardeners live for next year, it’s always next year. Next year will be better, more rain, plants will grow better, flower more, look more beautiful, bloom longer. Everything will be better next year. I don’t know fellow gardeners maybe the past and memories are so intertwined with present and future that we can’t seem to untangle them in our minds or our actions. I don’t know sometimes…….

I know that bad memories can weigh one down like the world did when it was placed on Atlas’s shoulders. He bared the weight of the world. Memories included, the good ones and the bad ones, that must have been a heavy load for old Atlas to carry around with him……I carry some heavy memories around with me, some really bad ones, scary ones, terrible ones but at the same time I carry memories that propel me forward and in the right direction and the way I want to go now….Good memories that brings smiles to my face and warmth to my heart and food to my soul…..I’ve jettisoned a bunch of old memories, some of them I had to, they were killing me. I still know what they were then and now but I process them differently now in my mind. They’re there but they don’t weigh me down so now. They’re lighter and less hurtful cause I’ve changed, The memories haven’t, just me I guess.

Fellow gardeners if any of this is not making any sense, well that should come as no big surprise to you. You know me when I get to thinking about things, life and what not. I go on and on and as far as getting to the point, well sometimes I don’t even know what the point is and I’m the ones writing the little story to begin with, kinda scary huh fellow gardeners?…….:-)

But I got to go out into the garden now and do my daily morning walk thru, which like the memories I was talking about this morning fuel me too during the day. A walk in the garden is like a friend of mine from Birmingham said yesterday in an beautiful story he wrote about his father and gardening.  He said that garden walks are the ” journey of a lifetime” and he’s right and his story was so beautiful I know he won’t mind me sharing it with you and I will tomorrow but right now I got to take the “journey of a lifetime”…..

Paul From Alabama

 

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