Memories
Light the corners of my mind
Misty watercolor memories
Of the way we were
Scattered pictures
Of the smiles we left behind
Smiles we gave to one another
For the way we were
Can it be that it was all so simple then?
Or has time rewritten every line?
If we had the chance to do it all again
Tell me, would we? Could we?
Memories
May be beautiful and yet
What’s too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget
So it’s the laughter
We will remember
Whenever we remember
The way we were
The way we were
Marvin Hamlisch, Alan Bergman & Marilyn Bergman
This past week has been one strange trip down memory lane. I am fortunate enough to have my own “she shed,” which is basically a time capsule. I have been in this office for twenty years, and the floor needed to be replaced. But because it was so cluttered, I was forced to do some spring cleaning.
BOOK MEMORIES
I first tackled my bookcase, which went from floor to ceiling, eyeing row upon row of business books whose knowledge had formed the basis of my successful thirty-year career in human resources. Paralyzed, I stared at them, realizing that 1) I would never use them again, and 2) the knowledge was most likely seriously outdated. Then, taking a deep breath, I had the young man who was assisting me remove them from the shelf. When we took them to Goodwill, the guy in receiving asked if we were from a library.
For many of the books, particularly those on mediation and diversity, I could tell you exactly what skills I had learned from them and how I had incorporated that knowledge into my practice. They were old friends, but times change, and I must move on.
Don’t despair, dear readers, I have tons of books left. Many I can’t bear to part with—My copy of The Little Prince, written in French, a few of my father’s books from college, my huge French Larousse French/English dictionary, and multiple copies of some editions of the textbook I co-authored, just to name a few.
OTHER MEMORIES
And it’s not just the books. My office is a living repository of things from my life. A Bowie knife I had from my Girl Scout counselor days that I used to slay Copperheads, my Fanner 50 gun belt, my mother’s prints from Japan, Indian arrowheads from my grandfather’s property that is now underwater, an empty bottle of Havana Club rum from Cuba, OMG! I must stop reminiscing. There’s just too much stuff.
The find that shook me was an obituary. In 1994, while a supervisor at the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, I managed a case involving an employee whose medical insurance was capped because he had AIDS. We got a successful temporary restraining order and settled the case. Our work gave him another year of life. To this day, I remember visiting with his physician and realizing he was dying. The case was emotionally stressful but satisfying.
One favorite I forgot to mention, however. On my wall is a 1968 picture of other Girl Scouts and me from an international Girl Scout conference with Spiro T. Agnew, the crook of a vice president who resigned in 1973. We were visiting the Maryland state capitol when the announcement came that he, then governor of Maryland, had been picked to run with Richard Nixon on the Republican ticket. He then posed with us for pictures.
LAST THOUGHTS ON MEMORIES
The dilemma is always what to save and what to keep. Why did I keep those things and toss others?
The wonderful thing about memories is, as the song suggests, we keep the good ones and forget the bad. But time passes. My office can only hold so much memorabilia. Old memories need to be purged to allow new ones a chance to shine. And, I hope the new ones never end.
The only consolation is that, in the future, I will not have to forfeit my beloved books. Most of my reading today is digital, so I can carry my library with me wherever I go.
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