History

I recently found a 100-year-old American History book that once belonged to Madie Ream, Home Room 109. This book contains an emphasis on political and constitutional issues and is written in a readable narrative format.

I’ll admit that either I’ve forgotten a lot of the history I studied in school, or our books glossed over much of it. I do not remember ever reading that during George Washington’s second term, he was compared to Nero, called a “tyrant,” “dictator” and “despot.” The most shocking to me was that some referred to him as the “step-father” of our country.

This reminds me of when my oldest son was a teen-ager and not prone to answering questions. He would say, “If you’re writing a book, just leave that chapter out.” It really makes perfect sense in today’s world.

Each of us has a history and sometimes we leave out chapters if we are recounting past events. In my defense, I seem to have forgotten big chunks of my personal history. I hear other people tell stories “that seem like yesterday” and in my opinion, it’s more like another lifetime, or actually about someone else.

But then, I can re-read my past blog posts and not recall writing some of them. When I read “Indelible” (which was transcribed from my recordings in real time), sometimes I can’t retrieve the actual memory. I also left some chapters out because they were too painful to tell, reflected badly on another person, or too private to share with others.

We all have good chapters and bad chapters, joyful chapters and sad chapters, but most of all, we have the forgotten chapters: the days that hummed along, uneventful, and so boring that they didn’t earn a spot in our short-term or long-term memory.

When tragedy hits, stress and heartache are present for a huge chunk of our lives. When we awaken for a new day—the first thought is a surge of grief. When we lie down to sleep—the last thought is the heartache of loss.

With time, grief becomes manageable and entire days go by without tears, but not without thoughts and memories. Sometimes waves of sorrow wash over us with the force of a tsunami from the epicenter of pain.

Given enough healing and fortitude, the sun will shine again and warm our souls. Life marches on with a blur of days, events, obligations, and celebrations. Some people live with chaos, and have to etch out moments of inner peace. Some of us live a life that has little drama and limited stress.

When my life is over, I hope people will remember the good I’ve done and forget the chapters when I fell short of the mark. I’m only human and I’ve made my share of mistakes, but I’ve learned more from mistakes that I have from getting it right the first time.

Someday, each of us will be history. Some of us will be like Madie, who wrote two poems and an observation in the front of her history book. Like me, when she found something that caught her attention, she wrote it down to remember it later.

A person who never knew her (me) smiled when I read, “Life is one darn thing after another; love is two things after each other.” Versions of this quote have been attributed to various people, and Madie found it somewhere.

I’m sure I would have liked Madie, and I tell her that when I visit her grave.

 

Copyright © October 2025 by L. S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

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