Today we turned our clocks back one
hour. My cell phone and computer both did it for me, but the dozen or so other
clocks remain an hour ahead until they are changed.
I always remember which way to turn
the clocks by “spring forward” for daylight saving time and “fall back” to return to standard time. In
one place, I saw it referred to as “turn back time.”
Turning back time is completely appropriate
for another reason than standard time on November 1. This is the day after
Halloween and the religious holiday of “All Saints Day” or as it is celebrated
in some countries, “Day of the Dead.”
Is there any better way to turn
back time than to remember those who have already passed away? It’s strange
that I’ve never thought of this day as the Day of the Dead and never knew much
about that tradition. On this day, millions of people will make annual pilgrimages
to cemeteries and churches. Graves will be decorated with offerings of sugar
skulls, flowers, or favorite food and beverages. Prayers are offered for the
spiritual passing of loved ones.
Although I never celebrated the Day
of the Dead, for some reason the past week has been an extreme time of
reflection for me. On the drive back from my Alzheimer’s Board Meeting, I found
myself reminiscing during the hour-long drive over and, again, on the way back.
Who would think something so simple
as rolling dips in the road could bring back a vivid memory? Jim used to hit
those dips fast enough that my stomach would feel funny. I drove past the house
on Newland hill where we lived when our kids were little. I thought about them
standing at the end of the driveway waiting for the school bus. I remembered
Christmas, Halloween, and sitting around the dinner table. I remembered bits
and pieces of the life we once had—before time marched on.
I passed the turnoff to Arrow Rock
and thought of the good times we spent there. Remembered the time Jim wandered
off during the festival and it took my sister, her husband, and me some scary
moments before we found him.
Even before I drove past the cancer
hospital, the drive alone made me think of taking my co-worker and friend, Diane,
to Columbia for her treatments. That’s a double or triple memory. Diane’s
favorite holiday was Halloween and it was with great sadness that the cancer
took her on that day.
It is not unusual for a cemetery to
evoke memories of loved ones buried there. When I passed Hopewell, my thoughts
turned to Frank and Dorothy that we rented from when we lived on Newland Hill. I
thought of Aunt Addie who wasn’t my aunt at all, but a wonderful woman who made
the best of life in a wheelchair.
I’ve spent most of my life living within
seven miles of where I live now. No wonder every curve, hill, and
landmark made me think of the people who passed through my life, influencing
me, making me the person I am today.
If we really turned back time today—not
just for an hour, but could turn it back to a different time, it might not be the
miracle that we would envision. Just think, one small change in our past would
bring us to an entirely different destiny. We could drive ourselves insane with
a thousand what ifs.
When a loved one dies, they take a
piece of us with them, but they also leave part of themselves behind. We are
left with memories, and we are changed. Remembering good times is a way to
appreciate the gift of love. A
productive, happy life is based on what we were, how we cherish what we are now,
and the audacity to believe the future will be filled with hope, happiness, and
adventure.
Copyright © November 2015 by L.S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
No comments:
Post a Comment