I feel it. I turned 40 last year and I feel it. My body hurts a bit more than it used to. I need more sleep than I did a few years ago. Remembering is harder because there is a lot of years to sift back through.
A while back I started writing down memories on 3×5 cards to start sorting out the major, or memorable events in my life. By the time I got through the exercise I had a stack of cards filled out, and still had plenty left to go. It has been a useful exercise though because the more I write down the more memories are coming back.
For instance, I wrote a post not long ago about my 1984 Pontiac Bonneville. After I wrote that post another memory came back to me of the adventures in that car. I pulled up one day in front of friends house in the car. Her dad was a photographer and had taken my senior pics. I stopped by to preview them.
After I pulled up in the driveway a large explosion went off and I hurriedly ducked down. What had that sound been?! It sounded like a shotgun. After a few seconds I surveyed the surroundings and didn’t see anyone. I slowly got out of the car to investigate. I was cautious and soon made a discovery…one of my tires had exploded. The lesson I learned? Don’t drive on gravel with bald tires.
Some of the note cards I wrote are about specific events. Others have been about jobs that I had when I was younger. I have worked all kinds of jobs, but one of the most interesting and at the same time not so great jobs I ever had was working as an insurance claims office manager.
I learned very quickly when dealing with people and their money, or the prospect of them receiving money, folks can lose their minds and manners in a hurry. I had been on the job less than a month when a grain harvester guy called inquiring about “his check”. The question he asked me was something along the lines of…”Son, I need to know where my check is and I need to know now!” I told him he would need to speak with my manager. He told me that I was full of bovine feces and needed to get him his check. Yeah. Real conversation. I am happy to report it was several more weeks before he got anything.
Another good memory is when I got the job offer that led me away from the insurance office. Now, you have to understand that the office I worked in smelled like a cigar lounge. The president of the company smoked 6 cigars a day while sitting 10 feet from my desk. I smelled like an ash tray at all times. Marixa made me shower every day when I got home before she would even kiss me. So, when the job offer came in I told the hiring manager I could start immediately if needed…right after I took a shower.
I have enjoyed the process of writing out the different memory cards. I do not want to forget anything. I am glad to know that the stories are still in there, even if it is taking a little more prying these days to get them out.
Do you have memories locked inside? Is it time to get them out?
David Willis 